


Rogue - Firefury

by AJ_Wright



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft (Manga), Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft II, Warcraft III, Warcraft: Orcs & Humans, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft (Comics), World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Adventure, Azeroth, Betrayal, Capital City, Demon Hunters, Desire, Dwarf, Epic Love, F/M, Fantasy, Forsaken, Human, Legion - Freeform, Lies, Murder, Night Elf, Quel'Thalas, Rite of Passage, Romance, Scourge, Sexual Addiction, Sexual Submission, Sin'dorei, Sunwell, blood elf, high elf, quel'dorei, rogue - Freeform, second war, third war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 156,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13011879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Wright/pseuds/AJ_Wright
Summary: A feisty, adventurous young blood elf in Quel'thalas, Tiene Firefury, chooses the path of rogue/assassin.  But, through the years she evolves in a world filled with lies, lust, betrayal, and suffers debilitating heartbreak. She loses almost everything dear to her.Now, she seeks vengeance against all who wronged her."I am Tiene Firefury. I am seductress, lover, assassin and thief. I am friend to those deserving and enemy to those unworthy. I am vengeance, justice. And I am the reaper outside your door."A soundtrack for the story can be found on Spotify using the same title as the book.  https://open.spotify.com/user/ahkentit/playlist/455XP7T2DFvBeNL4BKigfX





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note  
> Disclaimer: All World of Warcarft recognised NPCs, lore and locations are owned by Blizzard Entertainment.  
> Louvel Nottley and Fyn Godwin are the property of my friend and fellow author Sara username @Finychan on Wattpad, and she kindly gave me permission to incorporate them within my story.  
> All other characters and story development are strictly mine.

 

She wiped her bloodied dagger on the edge of her cloak and surveyed the carnage she and her colleagues had dealt the demonic camp just west of the Black Temple. This small outcrop of the Burning Legion was just an appetiser for the rogue troupe. She had no doubt the demons numbers would greatly magnify as they neared the temple. That meant the blood elf and her colleagues' assassination skills would indeed be utilised to the full. She reckoned it would take another day before they reached their goal and as such, they would need to take shelter soon. She had seen the familiar turret structures of a Scryers settlement not too far from their present location. She signalled to the others, and they turned to make their way there.

Shadowmoon Valley in Outland was a dire, dark place, dominated by the volcano known as the Hand of Gul'dan which seeped and spluttered it's foul green poison, fel, violating the charcoal, arid ground. The skies rained with fluorescent meteors, crashing upon the land and birthing enormous stone giants known as Infernals which heaved and lumbered over the land, crushing all underfoot mercilessly. All manner of demons laid waste to countless Horde and Alliance soldiers throughout the valley.

The creatures that had roamed the barren plains were also tainted with the loathsome fel and had mutated into abhorrent versions of their former selves. They would snap and slash and tear at anything and anyone who crossed their paths. Such was the legacy of the Burning Legion.

As she stared out over the grim landscape from the security of the inn at The Sanctum of the Stars, Tiene Firefury could not help but succumb to a feeling of hopelessness.

How had the world come to this? It was so far removed from her beautiful homeland of Quel'thalas, Eversong Woods and the stunning Silvermoon City. There, it had been warm, with opulent reds, yellows, and ambers in lush landscapes covered with rich grasses and trees abundant with vibrant foliage. Beautiful azure seas with white sand beaches all bathed in golden sunshine. The nights had breathtaking starry skies and the evening temperatures were warm and welcoming.

Even that had come under threat, during the Third War when the scourge had attacked. In their pursuit of the High Elves' sacred Sunwell those undead creatures ravaged the land with Arthas Menethil at the helm, and they had literally left a scar that ran all the way across Eversong Woods. Then there was the ultimate betrayal of the magister Dar'Khan Drathir, who all but razed the land he had once been responsible for creating, by attempting to harness the Sunwell's power for himself. The mystical fount that had been the elves sustenance and source of arcane power, was tainted further once Arthas used it to resurrect the necromancer Kel'Thuzad, a one-time human member of The Six, of the Kirin Tor. This, in turn, would enable him to summon Archimonde, a powerful Man'ari eredar to Azeroth, a servant of the Burning Legion.

All madness had ensued since. Even the elves' prince, Kael'thas Sunstrider was under scrutiny now. It appeared by all accounts he was fighting for his people's survival when he had the corrupted Sunwell blown up to destroy any remaining scourge in their lands. Although it ensured the High Elves survival it also meant their reliance on the arcane was affected and ultimately, the Sunwell's destruction was devastating to Quel'thalas. The High Elves then became known as Blood Elves, Sin'dorei, Children of the Blood, in memory of loved ones they'd lost.

Now it seemed that Kael'thas had also been seduced by the Burning Legion, having taken control of the Tempest Keep in Netherstorm. There, he was harnessing all the power that the technology of the levitating satellite could muster from the surrounding land and its creatures.

The elves had to look to their steward, Lor'themar Theron for guidance now. An incredibly intelligent man, but he did not like politics. He was a fighter, a soldier, but having been named Regent Lord by his prince, he had no option but to follow through with the responsibilities the post required of him.

And so, Tiene and her group of assassins, the Shadow Blades, trained members of the guild, (formerly known as the Crimson Blade), had arrived in Outland. It was, however, going to be time to make a choice. And that choice could change everything, forever.

Her eyes started to close, and in that hazy limbo between sleep and waking, her memories drifted back to a more innocent time...

 


	2. Firefury By Name, Firefury By Nature

**_Music: Woodland Tales composed by Adrian von Ziegler_ **

Another wonderful autumn day in Eversong Woods and Tiene Firefury had once again snuck away from doing chores. As usual, her fascination with the lynx’ as they hunted had become the priority. She loved they way they moved, stealthing along, bellies close to the ground as they honed in on some hapless woodland creature that would serve as their next meal. It was part of her life’s education as she saw it. She would mimic their movements as best she could, albeit on two legs instead of four.  Their grace, their cunning, their focus; all of these traits she observed and tried to master.

Her azure eyes watched with unfathomable concentration as the lynx stalked its prey in the long, dancing grasses. Its haunches shuddered, ready to spring for the kill. Tiene held her breath, her patience matching that of the lynx. Any moment now...

A sharp, crackling sound came from a few feet behind. She snapped her head round and saw her brother Inaris, conjuring a fire bolt and aiming it at the lynx. “No!! Don’t you dare!” she hissed.

Inaris smirked but didn’t diminish his spell. He did, however, change its direction and it hit the fawn which the lynx had set its sights on. The young deer made a strange little bark before hitting the ground, twitching, wispy trails of smoke rising from the fur on its flank where the intense heat of the bolt had impacted. The lynx, spooked by the attack ran off towards the hills.

“You are mean, Inaris!” Tiene stomped towards her brother who now stood, arms folded with a look of mock reprimand on his face.

“And you, young lady, are in trouble. Father is not pleased with you sloping off from your chores...again!” He grinned as she huffed past him.

Her buoyant golden hair bounced on her shoulders, cascading over her back as she stormed her way back to Silvermoon City. Her face was thunderous, she hated it when Inaris used his magic to spoil her day, and he did that quite often. It annoyed her, even more, when he kept whistling that annoying little tune he always liked as he followed her through Shepherd’s Gate, the entrance to the city. She tried to pick up the pace and lose him as she rounded the corner then sprinted through the Bazaar and into The Walk of Elders. Inaris was not to be outdone though, and he always won the race thanks to his magic. As she rounded the gateway into the Royal Exchange, he was already standing leaning against the exit waiting for her.

“You know fine you will never beat me, Tiene,” he said, smirking at his younger sister’s rage. She really was the epitome of their family name.

Inaris and their older brother, Duthan, absolutely adored her, but they did like to tease her, much to the frustration of their father, Yathas. They always managed to get her so agitated that she would, albeit  _eventually_ , carry out her chores within the house, but normally at a cost, such as a heap of broken crockery, torn furnishings or worse, burnt food.

They were both inclined to be a little over-protective of her too, perhaps due to the fact Lina, their mother, had died when Tiene was very young, so young in fact that the girl barely remembered her. She was her mother’s image, and she had also inherited her temperament. But, the brothers’ patience never wavered and much of the consequences of Tiene’s tantrums were often forgiven, although never entirely over-looked.

Yathas wanted nothing more than to see his daughter eventually settle with a nice upstanding and hopefully well-to-do elf, and make him a proud grandfather, many times over. She rebelled against that idea, although her eyes had been distracted on occasion by a particular elf, much to Yathas’ disappointment. The only good thing about the elf in question, named Dar’Khan Drathir - he was seldom around. But, other than the flamboyant mage capturing Tiene’s interest, she wanted to be like her brothers.  _Useful_ , as she called them. Inaris was a promising warlock, and Duthan an expert ranger.

Inaris, seeing Tiene’s restless spirit, and constantly being the one assigned to find her, taught her how to blend in with her surroundings using low-level magic. It was in effect, stealthing, but not the expert kind which the likes of rogues, the hierarchy of assassins, mastered. It nonetheless kept her safe, to a degree, as she was prone to wandering off into the woods more frequently than she should. Of course, Inaris could always detect her, much to her great annoyance.

Duthan also tried to help her with defence, but as a ranger with the Farstriders, he tried to educate her in archery and she did not take to the hunter’s ways. She loathed the bow as a weapon. Deadly though they were in the right hands, in the wrong ones, namely hers, they were just useless pieces of wood and elven steel. More often than not, arrows fell to the ground barely inches from where she had nocked them, much to the amusement of Duthan and his good friend and fellow ranger, Lor’themar Theron.

Lor’themar, partially due to the fact the young ranger had no immediate family of his own, was welcomed into the Firefury home by Yathas, a number of years earlier, and although he now had rooms of his own, Lor’themar had, over the years, been looked upon as an addition to the family. As a result, he too, looked out for the spirited and adventurous Tiene.

Both young men were amongst the best lieutenant rangers within their ranks, with Lor’themar showing particular promise. Farstriders were not everyone’s favourite army as they operated outwith the normal military. They were, in effect, mercenaries, usually working together in small groups under their Ranger-General. But they were extremely effective.

Lor’themar’s skills, it appeared had indeed caught the eye of the Ranger-General, Sylvannas Windrunner, and it had been announced the day before that he was to be promoted to Ranger Captain. It was a great honour, and all of the Firefurys, Tiene included, were delighted for Lor’themar.

Hence the fuss about Tiene’s absence from the family home. She was supposed to be making sure it was all clean and tidy as Duthan had planned a celebratory dinner for Lor’themar at their home that evening. Fortunately  _for all of them_ , really, Lor’themar was also well aware of Tiene’s lack of cooking skills and had been prudent enough to organise ample fayre to be brought in.

The two rangers soon spotted the furious Tiene as she continued her rampage past the Ranger’s lodge, towards the Firefury’s modest but very comfortable home just off from Farstrider’s Square. Inaris was strolling nonchalantly behind and waved to his brother and Lor’themar.

“I see she escaped again,” Duthan said, shaking his head but smiling at the same time.

“Yes,” Inaris sighed. “Other than tying her up, there is little we can do to stop her.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Lor’themar intervened.

“Of course,” Inaris replied, his long tapered eyebrows cocked in hope of a solution.

“Well, considering she is adept at sneaking around, and you have even taught her how to meld into her surroundings, why do you not encourage her to train as a rogue?”

The two brothers stared at each other. “Well, I’m not too sure father would approve of  _that_  idea, Lor’themar,” Duthan offered.

“I doubt it too,” Inaris said. The brothers shared a knowing look, “But, it  _is_  a thought. You should see her when she is observing the lynx. I have seen her mirroring their movements. She is really quite impressive to watch.”

“Hmm,” Duthan mused. “I can imagine Tiene jumping at the opportunity actually. Convincing father will be the problem.”

“She can be a little... _feisty_ at times, too” Lor’themar added with a playful smirk. “With their disciplines, it may help her to learn how to keep that in check. And, I dare say, if it was a choice between training as a rogue or her marrying Dar’Khan, your father would choose the former.”

” _Marrying Dar’Khan_?” Inaris gasped.

“Oh, do not worry, Dar’Khan is not planning on it, but we know how Tiene lights up when he is so much as mentioned. As it so happens, to strengthen your argument about her training, I have invited Dar’Khan over tonight, as he has some business in the area for a couple of days.”

“That’s it settled then!” Duthan voiced, mirth evident in his voice. “We will talk father round  _fairly_ easily I think.”

Inaris chortled and started to move away. “Well, see you two later. I better check she has not razed the house.”

Laughing, the rangers nodded and turned to go back into the lodge.

Inaris arrived at their front door to find Tiene furiously sweeping the floor. She was muttering under her breath with every brushstroke, oblivious that her brother was watching her. It could sometimes take hours for the youngster to calm down, but now Inaris had some information about the evening that he knew would appease her, he was sorely tempted to break the news. It was perhaps a little unfair, considering the ambitious and flamboyant Dar’Khan did not meet with their father’s approval as a possible suitor for his daughter. There was also the strong likelihood, the mage was unlikely to be truly interested in Tiene. Indeed, if he was to look for a mate, she would no doubt have to be of some higher status, possibly even noble. Such was Dar’Khan’s standards, as it was with everything. He was affable enough, but also a bit of an insufferable snob at times. Still, the subject of her fancy would at least keep her within the margins of civility and perhaps, even make her a little demure. Inaris cleared his throat. Tiene’s head snapped up at the intrusion.

“I’m  _doing_  the chores!” she growled.

“So I see,” Inaris responded. “However, I thought perhaps you would prefer to go make yourself all pretty for tonight instead.”

She continued sweeping. “It’s only Lor’themar coming for a meal for goodness sake, he’s like a third brother. Huh! As if you two weren’t enough!”

“Aww, Tiene! We all love you though.”

“Pfft!”

“And there is another guest coming I believe,” Inaris said slyly.

At that, the sweeping stopped abruptly. She leaned on top of the broom, still a little huffily. “Oh just wonderful! I take it Lor’themar’s lady love is coming too?”

“Now Tiene, you know there is nothing confirmed there and I would advise you do not bring up the subject of Lady Liadrin. Lor’themar is a very private man when it comes to things like that. But, no, it is not her who is coming over.”

“Who then?”

“Oh, just a certain magister who is very friendly with your said third brother.”

The broom handle hit the floor and bounced a couple of times before it slowly rolled in an arc to a stop. Tiene, was gone.


	3. Ulterior Motives

 

“Anar’alah belore!” *****  Yathas said as the numerous platters, bowls and baskets of food arrived in through his door. “Are you feeding an army, Lor’themar?”

The newly appointed Ranger Captain approached the wagon and dropped a bag of coins in the hand of the delivery boy who sat atop. The boy thanked Lor’themar and then flicked the reins to move out. The hawkstrider omitted a loud squawk and jolted forward. Turning to Yathas, Lor’themar smiled. “It is not  _that_  much Yathas, but enough for tonight and perhaps a few days. Your generosity over the years has been more than I can repay.”

“You do not need to repay anything, it is always a pleasure to have you around.” From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a well-dressed individual heading towards them.  _Unlike some_ , Yathas thought. The over-confident stride announced the arrival of Dar’Khan Drathir. His signature wide-brimmed hat with decorative edging and pristine feather, billowing cloak over the no-expense-spared red and gold clothing made many a female head turn, along with the odd male one as well, but Yathas found such extravagant attire a tad pretentious. The mage’s egotistical manner did not add likability to the man either in Yathas’ eyes. But, he was a friend of Lor’themar’s, and he would tolerate the pompous Magister for his sake.

 

A minuscule squeal of delight was heard from behind him. Yathas turned to see Tiene standing, bouncing on her toes as she too caught sight of Dar’Khan. She was dressed in a deep maroon gown, drawn in tightly at the waist. It was decorated with golden embroidery around the low-cut neckline, bodice and hem. Yathas felt a mixture of pride and sorrow as he looked upon his little girl. She had grown up and was now a beautiful young woman, the mirror image of her mother, with all the attributes men would now look at with hunger. Men like Dar’Khan.

“Ahh, Yathas!” Dar’Khan greeted him. Instantly, the head of the Firefury household was irked by the mage’s over-familiarity. But, in keeping with the spirit of a gracious host, he nodded and welcomed the Magister to his home. Dar’Khan handed over two bottles of wine as way of a gift for allowing him to dine with them. Yathas thanked him. The mage then turned to Lor’themar. They hugged, slapping each other’s backs in way of greeting. “And look at you!” the mage said to his friend. “Captain no less! It is good that some of us get the recognition we deserve.” Yathas noted the hint of bitterness but said nothing.

“Thank you,” Lor’themar replied. “It is good to see you again, Dar’Khan.”

Inaris and Duthan pushed passed Tiene and went to greet their guest also. There was much back slapping and hand shaking again. Then Dar’Khan caught sight of Tiene, still standing in the shadow of the door frame, her hands clasped in front of her, a nervous little smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “And who is  _this_? It cannot be...Tiene?” He slid past the two brothers and stood at the side of the door. He tilted his head from one side to the next, taking in the vision that was Tiene. “My, haven’t you grown!” He took one of her hands and brushed his lips across the back of her knuckles. Bringing his head up level with hers, he inhaled. “You taste and smell  _very_  nice, too,” he smiled.

Tiene blushed, not quite sure what to do with herself, but inside she was dancing.

Inaris caught his father’s eye, and knew in an instant, that he disapproved of the Magister’s tone and actions. He moved quickly, angling his body between Dar’Khan and Tiene so it blocked the view of his sister. “Welcome. Come indoors why don’t you. We have a veritable feast waiting.” He ushered him indoors.

Lor’themar and Duthan watched as Tiene clenched and unclenched her fists with her eyes narrowed in the direction of Inaris. They had to suppress their laughter for fear it set her off more. Yathas was shaking his head, indicating he was of the opinion that this was going to be a long evening, but then tried to negate it by smiling at Lor’themar and gesturing him inside.

As it turned out the conversation had flowed easily enough. They had all enjoyed a splendid meal, thanks to Lor’themar, and they had indeed celebrated his promotion enthusiastically. He informed them that he and Duthan would be leaving in a couple of days time to aid in the battle against the remaining Amani trolls, hopefully eradicating them all together.

The elves had battled against the trolls for long enough, but their allegiance with the orcs and therefore the Horde, had changed matters for the worse. King Anasterian Sunstrider had not favoured joining the Alliance, he had initially felt that orcs were the humans problem, but once it had been made clear to him by Alleria Windrunner, who served him a brutal reminder that it was the Arathi bloodline who had saved the elves in the Troll Wars, he had no choice but to join the war in Lordaeron and pay his debt to Anduin Lothar, the last in the Arathi bloodline.

The Alliance was successful, incarcerating some of the orcs and pushing the remaining Horde back through the Dark Portal to the land the orcs hailed from, Draenor. Now, King Anasterian had ordered his armies to crush the Amani trolls once and for all from the eastern borders of their lands.

“I take it Lady Liadrin will be there too?” Dar’Khan said, watching his friend closely.

Lor’themar maintained his cool poise, the only hint that the comment implied more than it appeared was the barest of twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Indeed,” he replied. “His Majesty felt that she, along with fellow priests and magi, could assist greatly in reinforcing our ranks and aid in the demise of the Amani tribe.”

Tiene admired Lor’themar for his discretion although she did not see the harm in him admitting he had feelings for Lady Liadrin. Perhaps it was respect for her that he did not advertise his emotions. She had never met the priestess but had heard nothing but good reports.

The conversation then turned to Dar’Khan who boasted of his own achievements. Granted, he had done many great things, primarily his contribution in the creation and evolution of the elven cities, lands and the ability to ensure the High Elves had all they desired. This he had accomplished through utilising the Sunwell, the elves’ source of arcane power. This was not something to scoff at nor belittle, but his craving for recognition seemed somewhat calculated. Was it not simply for the good of his people he had carried out such work? Was not the proof that the elves were content and safe within their beloved Quel’thalas not gratitude enough? It appeared not. There was a definite tone of bitterness when he spoke of how he seemed to have been overlooked for election to a higher status within the Magisters. “I think I at  _least_  deserve being appointed Seeker of Wisdom,” he said haughtily.

“But, is that not what you do anyway, Dar’Khan?” Inaris asked. “You always seem to be on some venture. I assume it is to further the knowledge of magic and its sources, is it not?”

The mage studied Inaris over the rim of his goblet. The warlock was not only over-protective of his little sister, but also very astute. There was a slightly chilly silence until Lor’themar spoke up. “I may have inadvertently implied that actually, as I told them you were on business in the area for a couple of days,” he explained.

“Ahh. And of course, you are right Inaris. That  _is_  basically what I do, it’s just that I do not have the title to make it official.” Dar’Khan finally answered. He blinked slowly before turning his gaze to Tiene. Her cheeks flushed each time his eyes met hers. It was not hard to tell the young woman was taken by him.

“I will fight against the trolls and all who threaten Quel’thalas one day too,” Tiene announced suddenly. Everyone at the table stared at her. The only one to respond was Dar’Khan.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that, my lovely?” he asked, his eyes focused intently on her.

“Like my mother did. As a member of the Crimson Blades.”

Inaris and Duthan exchanged stunned looks. They were not aware that Tiene had known of their mother’s affiliation with the rogues. Father had kept it quiet, not wanting their sister to know about her mother’s days as a high ranking rogue in an elite group of assassins known as The Crimson Blades. Lina had died in battle, and Yathas did not want to lose his daughter the same way. He had seen striking similarities in her from a very young age and feared that she would want to travel the same path. The brothers looked to their father, who seemed momentarily stumped by his daughter’s revelation. Tiene did not miss the glances between her family. “Do you honestly think I venture out into the woods simply to watch the pretty dragonhawks and mana wyrms?”

Yathas’ voice quivered slightly. “Let us talk about this another day, Tiene.”

“Why? Is it not the slightest bit feasible that I wish to be as instrumental to the glory of our people as Dar’Khan, Inaris, Duthan and Lor’themar?”

The mage concealed a smirk behind his goblet. He liked the fact she mentioned his name first. An ego was an ego, no matter who bolstered it. Still, the air had become a little thick and so he suggested alleviating it. “May I suggest a small stroll to walk off all this wonderful food? Yathas, would you allow me to walk with Tiene? I swear it will be in close vicinity to your home.”

Tiene’s face reddened instantly. She was betwixt pursuing her argument to become a rogue or being alone with the wonderous Dar’Khan. The latter was extremely tempting and instantly she formed a plan. Seeing her father still in shock from her announcement, she pushed back her chair. “I think that is a fine idea, Dar’Khan. I’m sure my father will not object?” She stared at Yathas awaiting his answer.

He, in turn, looked around the table at his sons. It seemed they thought it was perhaps a good idea also, considering the alternative. The subject matter, while they had conspired to talk to Yathas about Tiene training as a rogue, was somewhat raw at this moment, and so they considered it best to opt for a distraction. It wasn’t as if Dar’Khan was a stranger to any of them either, even though his manner at times left them a little speechless. Besides, Inaris had every intention of being close by in the shadows keeping an eye on them. Yathas, sighed and agreed, but insisted they did not go far. Dar’Khan promised and said he would have her back home safe and sound before too long.

The air was, as always, warm and comforting. It seemed no matter the time of year, Quel’thalas, temperatures never really fluctuated much. Tiene, with her hands behind her back, walked beside the mage, her eyes cast down, stealing little glances now and again.

He could feel her eyes on him, and also those of another. No doubt her warlock brother. Perhaps a little mischievousness would be fun, he thought. As they walked, he started to form a spell. Tiene noticed the amethyst swirl in his hand. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Want to play a little game?” he whispered.

“Such as?” her expression was one of wonder mixed with uncertainty.

“Hide and seek,” he said before grabbing her hand and forming a portal. He pulled her through and snapped it closed behind them. She gasped at the suddenness of being teleported and panicked for a moment until she realised where she was. They were mere feet from where he had made the portal. They were in The Court of the Sun. There were two ways by foot to the Court, one was through the gates and round the Walk of Elders, then through Murder Row, which would take a few minutes, the other was closer through Farstriders Square and up through the steps and gardens. Neither would prove much use for the warlock, however, as he would not know where they had ported to. He could be hours trying to find them unless he was blessed by dumb luck.

“Who are we hiding from?” Tiene asked as they stood in front of the centrepiece of the Court, a large fountain.

“Inaris. He is fiercely protective of you, Tiene.”

“Of course he is, as is Duthan, my father and even Lor’themar.”

“Yes, but how is one meant to steal a kiss, if they are constantly watching?”

Her heart was pounding. Had she heard him right? Was he teasing her? “And why would you want to do such a thing?”

The mage laughed. Her question was quite unexpected. “Why would I not?” he edged closer to her.

Her posture was almost defensive and yet challenging. This young woman was a bit of an enigma. He was certain she liked him, her constant flushed cheeks when their eyes met, told him that. Yet, here she stood, questioning his intentions. He leaned down until his lips were only millimetres from hers. “Tell, me Tiene, if you were a trained assassin, and say, an enemy tried to kiss you, what would you do?”

“An enemy would not want to  _kiss_ me, Dar’Khan, he would only be want to  _kill_ me.”

The Magister inched back. “You  _are_  feisty, my lovely. Alright, put it another way then. Supposing someone you did  _not_ wish to kiss you made an attempt to do so, what would you do then?” He moved in closer again, a sly smile on his lips. The tip of his tongue played over his lips.

She was drawn to his moist mouth, hypnotised by the promise it possessed, yet it was something which still, she did not quite understand. For some inexplicable reason, the memory of Inaris blasting the doe and startling the lynx hit her and she snapped out of her trance. ” _This_ ,” she said.

Dar’Khan’s smile faltered as he felt the point of cold steel against his throat. He stepped back, amazed to see a small dagger in her hand. His reaction made her feel bolder.

“Where on earth were you hiding  _that_?” he asked, eyes wide in surprise.

“Tricks of the trade, Magister. If I tell you, I will need to kill you.”

It was then he realised she had jumped at the chance to be alone with him, not for the obvious reason as he had first thought, but rather with an ulterior motive. This was no little girl with a mere crush in front of him, oh no. She may still be pure, but she was not foolish nor was she likely to completely melt if he did kiss her. Still, there was scope here.

“Fight my case for me with my family, and you may not have to  _steal_  a kiss, Dar’Khan.”

He was now intrigued. “And why would they listen to me?”

“Come now, oh great one,” she said, knowing how to play to his ego. “You are not naïve. You know my father does not exactly approve of you.”

“Yes, I am aware he finds me ... a little over-bearing, shall we say.”

“For the sake of argument, let us say that, yes. Father wishes for me to settle down with someone and have lots of children,” she said, toying with the tip of the dagger’s blade.

Dar’Khan smirked. He reckoned he knew now where she was going with this.

“So,” she continued, “if he thought you and I were to be remotely romantically involved...”

“Then he would agree to your training as a rogue instead,” the mage concluded. He laughed again as he saw her mouth curl up in a smile. Dar’Khan stepped closer to the golden-haired elf. There was definitely more to this young woman than he realised. He had underestimated her. “But, what of that kiss then?”

“Do as I ask, however you see fit, and I will pay my debt. Fail me, and it may be a different type of kiss you feel.” She drew the flat of the blade across her throat to emphasise her meaning.

He doffed his hat and smiled affectionately. “Your wish is my command.” He offered his arm. Inside, she was trembling. She had not dared to believe she could have carried off that little act, but by all appearances, she did; and it seemed, rather well. She linked arms, and they started back to the house. “You wouldn’t really do that to me though would you, Tiene? I thought you liked me.”

“Oh I  _do_  like you, Dar’Khan, but the assassin is in my blood. Perhaps it would be in your best interests not to press me to find out.”

The Magister patted her hand and smirked. “I shall keep that in mind, Tiene.”

 

 *****  Anar’alah belore – By the light of the sun


	4. Family Secrets

* * *

 

The soft rays of the autumn sun meandered into Tiene’s room next morning and coated the walls and floor in a mellow haze. Her eyes fluttered open to the new day then immediately scrunched up against the brightness. She covered her eyes with her forearm and started to play the previous night’s events over in her head and smiled.

She had enjoyed her stroll with Dar’Khan and was well pleased with the way she had handled things. There had been something so deliciously satisfying, holding that blade to another humanoid’s throat. She giggled as she recalled Dar’Khan’s face when he felt the steel point on his skin. The feeling of power she experienced at that moment, was indescribable. She had never felt that before. If she were totally honest with herself, it gave her more pleasure than she thought his kiss would have given her. However, that little thrill could be collected in future, if he played along with her.

Then it dawned on her just what a risk she had taken. He was not some feeble little elf she could sneak up on and scare (as she had done to a fair few on many occasion in and around Silvermoon). He was a powerful mage, more of a sorcerer really. If he had been so inclined, he could have polymorphed her to teach her a lesson. He was probably just humouring her though. Yes, she found him extremely attractive, and his attention made her blush, but she was not stupid. Well aware of his standards and ambitions, she knew they meant a simple girl like her would merely be a plaything for one such as he. A plaything which he would easily discard when he became bored with her. Still, she liked this game. It would be interesting to see if he would indeed play along.

Her light-heartedness waned once she remembered her father’s face at the dinner table following her announcement. She had not meant to hurt or humiliate him. She had just thought it was the perfect opportunity to let him know that she had seriously been considering her future and what she wanted to do with her life. It was necessary that he, and her brothers, realised she was not a silly little girl any more. She didn’t want to stay at home doing all the chores. Furthermore, her absconding to the woods wasn’t just for the thrill of it. She had been honing skills out there.

The revelation that she knew about her mother had hit all her family hard though, particularly her father. She had known about her for six months now and it had all come about quite by chance. Oddly enough, it had been while she carried out some of those tedious chores, that she happened across a loose floorboard in her father’s room. She was actually going to hammer it down in place when she noticed that it was the only timber which was not secured  _at all_. This struck her as a little odd.

Further investigation revealed that it was loose for a reason. Hidden underneath was a metal box. She had to carefully manoeuvre it for it to slide out from the narrow gap between the boards, but she managed. Sitting cross-legged, she opened the box and that was when she truly met her mother. Inside had been a few oddities, trinkets, letters, dried flowers pressed between parchment, small notebooks that going by some of the encrypted content may have been some kind of diaries and coded parchment with what she guessed were orders, from someone called Commander Sa’themar Nightflame. But the thing that had captured Tiene’s interest the most was not in the box. It was what had laid wrapped securely in soft leather, just slightly further along from where she found the box. Two highly decorative scabbards which housed stunningly crafted, and no doubt deadly, daggers.

The blades gleamed as she held them up and they caught the sun’s rays coming in through the window. Their keenness still able to slice her hand open if she was in any way careless with her handling of them. They were curved, fashioned like claws. Towards the crossguards, the blades possessed their most intricate work. Serrated almost halfway on the upper side of the blade with yet another claw- like mini blade just above. This claw however was crafted differently, in that it was hollow, as if it could contain something. Scrutinizing it closer, Tiene could smell something very bitter and the hollow claw was ever so slightly discoloured. She had heard that assassins coated their blades in various poisons. Perhaps that was what this hollow claw was for, to “feed” the blade. She made a mental note to thoroughly wash her hands after, although she doubted it would have maintained its toxicity after all this time. The handles were bound in tough, burnished leather, pleated perfectly all the way to the pommels. They themselves again, beautifully crafted with miniature lynx heads with ruby eyes. She smiled. So mother loved the lynx too.

She knew she could not divulge her findings. Not yet anyway. But, she would, over the months to come, revisit this little box of memorabilia and the daggers, and learn a little bit more about her mother’s alternate life.

She did wonder why all the secrecy, but she was not put out by it. She respected her father immensely, and knew he would have a sound reason for keeping this all quiet. He rarely spoke of her mother, other than to tell Tiene that she had been beautiful, a kind and loving mother and wife. He told her also that she served as a constant reminder of mother, her mirror image in more ways than one. Other than that, he did not mention her, but Tiene had put that down to heartbreak, assuming that stirring such memories would cause him too much pain.

Her brothers never spoke much about her either. They were young when she died too, but not as young as Tiene had been, so they did have some memories of her. But that, Tiene had simply considered, was down to them being typical boys.

So, now it was morning. Now she had to face them. Now, her future was about to begin. Hopefully.

Once she had bathed, dressed and tied her hair back, she walked through to the living area and was not entirely surprised to see her father, Inaris and Duthan sitting around the table with the breakfast dishes at the ready, with some poached herb eggs, moonberry muffins, pomegranates and some refreshing spring water in a jug. What did surprise her was the metal box on the table and the leather covered daggers next to it.  _Well_ , she thought,  _perhaps Dar’Khan and my little role playing will be unnecessary_. Her brow furrowed as she tried to ascertain whether that realisation vexed her or not. Strangely, as her eyes rested on the box again, she knew it didn’t.

“Tiene,” her father said softly. “Come sit down.” He gestured to the chair next to him. Her brothers sat opposite.

Taking her seat, she looked over at Duthan and Inaris. They both looked so serious. Inaris also looked a tad annoyed. “Enjoy your evening stroll?” he said. That explained his irritable manner. He had been out-ported last night and he didn’t like it.

“Yes,” Tiene replied. “No need to get all huffy, Inaris. It was rather rude of you to try follow and spy.”

“I was making sure you were alright.”

“No, you were  _suffocating_  me, as you always do!”

Annoyed by her comment, Inaris folded his arms and sunk into his chair.

Duthan intervened. “Come now, Tiene. Dar’Khan is undoubtedly charming...” Inaris and Yathas stared at him wide-eyed. He shrugged and continued, “...amongst other things, but you are our sister and we don’t want you being taken advantage of.”

“Anar’alah!* What are you implying!” Her brows knitted together again.

“You know full well what we mean,” Inaris said, still put out by her interpretation of his caring about her.

” _Really_? Did you think I went walking with him,  _unprepared_?”

“What?!” Inaris was up out of his seat, fists clenched.

“Oh honestly! Inaris! I took a blade with me.”

All three gaped. “You see!” she went on, gesturing with her hands at the three of them. “You are all guilty of thinking I’m still a little girl who doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

Yathas sighed, signalling for Inaris to sit back down. He continued to stand however, as his father spoke. “Yes, Tiene, we  _are_  guilty, but it is not because we do not believe in you. We  _do_ , very much. But more importantly, we love you, it is as simple as that. And whether you like it or not, we will always care and look out for you. You are precious to us.”

Her father’s words and comforting tone calmed her down. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I love all of you too. But please allow me to grow.”

Inaris finally sat back down, his mood soothed slightly. A little reassuring smile from his impetuous sister however made everything alright again. The whole family relaxed once more.

“Yes, you’re right Tiene,” Yathas agreed. “You are no longer that slip of a girl. Just understand that we do what we do because we care, not because we want to restrict you.”

Tiene nodded, smiling, ruefully.

“Now, let’s eat.” She studied her father closely as he dished up the eggs, offered the muffins around and poured everyone their drink. His dark brown hair was just turning grey at the temples, and though he wore it long, it was always tied back. He was a handsome man, rugged, some might say, with a little v-shaped nick just under his right eye, borne probably from a childhood accident. His beard was shaped close to his strong-lined jaw, like his hair, it too was flecked with grey, but made him look refined. His eyes though they possessed the customary sapphire flare of the high elf, you could still see the pupils and irises which had a deeper blue tint. When he smiled, his eyes always lit up brightly, but when he was sad, or lost in thought, those eyes became deep pools you could drown in.

She took a moment to study her brothers too. Duthan had the same colouring as Tiene and therefore he must have also taken after their mother, but he was the more muscular of the two brothers and clean-shaven. Inaris, was a younger version of their father and had his build, lean and athletic. He even sported a beard too, but unlike Yathas’, it was concentrated mainly on the chin and tapered to fine accurate lines all the way to the back of his jawline. Both of the Firefury brothers attracted many admiring glances from the young ladies in Silvermoon. And Tiene knew they had, between them, broken a good few hearts too. She did sometimes wonder though, why father did not pursue getting the boys married off to make him a proud grand-father. Seemed a tad unfair, especially as at least they would carry the family name forward. She almost laughed out loud thinking of herself as Tiene Drathir, but managed to keep it under wraps.

Once they had all eaten and the dishes were put to one side, Yathas reached out and moved the metal box so it sat between him and his daughter. His lips were set in a melancholy smile. His long fingers drummed the top of the box. “I gather you found this, Tiene,” he said. There was no reproach in his voice. He looked at her from under his long lashes. She merely lowered her head a little, in way of confession. A soft laugh escaped him. “I know because I had the contents in a certain order and now, well they are a bit muddled up.”

“Sorry, father.”

“No need, Tiene. It is past time I told you everything. Your brothers and Lor’themar, just so you know, had already decided to talk to me about your possible training as a rogue.”

She looked at Duthan and Inaris in surprise. “You did?” she asked them.

Duthan answered. “Yes,Tiene. We have been trying to teach you ways to defend yourself, for we saw you were not content to simply stay at home, safe, like some of the other girls. I knew early on you did not take to the bow, so Inaris, having seen you regularly in the woods watching the lynx and copying their movements, thought helping you with stealthing would be a good start. Lor’themar was the one however, who suggested we force the issue by suggesting you train as a rogue and speak with father about it.”

Tiene suddenly felt guilty for always being so angry with her brothers, especially Inaris.

Yathas heaved a sigh. “It is only right that you know why I have never told you about your mother’s life as a rogue. Simple enough really. Selfish reasons. I had lost your mother during a mission she was on. Although you were very young when she died, you nonetheless already possessed startling similarities to her. I made a vow to your mother’s spirit that I would not risk your meeting a similar fate as she, so I kept her life hidden in this box along with her trusty blades.” He gestured to the leather covered daggers next to the box. “I realise now, that was not fair to you.”

Tiene’s hand covered her father’s. She understood perfectly.

With his sons and daughter paying attention, Yathas began. “Your mother trained under one of the finest rogues I have ever known. He was called Sa’themar Nightflame.” There was something in the way he spoke that conveyed an immense relief in his finally being able to share the truth with his children. “And, in case you are wondering, I too trained under him.”

” _You_ were a Crimson Blade?” Tiene asked, stunned at this bit of news. She had always thought her father had just been a leather merchant. Nothing shameful in that, in fact he had a very lucrative business, but a rogue? Even Duthan and Inaris had been taken by surprise.

“Eventually, yes,” Yathas smiled wistfully. “It took a while. The training was extensive. At times it seemed pointless, even a little boring. But  _everything_  Sa’themar taught us was paramount to perfecting the skills as a rogue, an assassin. And on occasion, a  _thief_.”

“Thief?” Inaris smirked at the thought of his father doing anything that was remotely criminal.

Yathas laughed lightly. “Oh, it was not for personal gain Inaris, although there were a few characters who did a little skimming now and again. Mostly, we stole documents, plans, blueprints, things like that.” He opened the metal box, and carefully laid out all the contents on the table.

Tiene pointed to the little notebooks. “Diaries?” she asked.

“Sort of. She wrote them in a code that only she and I could understand. She liked to catalogue the missions we were sent on. Some of the entries are also mine, when your mother had to stay home to nurse you.”

Duthan opened one of the folded parchments. “These orders?”

“Yes, again in code, but that of the Crimson Blade. Admittedly, we took a risk keeping these, even though they are encrypted. Had anyone found them...”

“What about these?” Tiene selected the pressed flowers.

Her father smiled fondly. “Simply tokens from a man who loved a woman. Your mother loved flowers, so I would often pick them for her, and she would preserve some, like this.”

“Why did you stop being a Crimson Blade, father?” Inaris asked.

Yathas smiled. “I had you three to look after for one thing. But apart from that privilege, it was not in my heart to continue with the kind of work your mother and I carried out together. Other Blades were good, make no mistake, but without her, I felt there was no reason to continue. I had my family, and you were and are, all that is important.”

Tiene felt all warm inside, hearing her father talk so lovingly about her mother. Although she never really knew her, she wished she was here, for her father’s sake more than anything.

Without her realising it, her eyes had settled on the leather wrap and her focus did not escape Yathas’ attention. “Yes, Tiene. These belonged to your mother.” He unfolded the leather cover and placed the daggers carefully on the table. Duthan picked one up and pulled it from its scabbard. His eyes widened at the quality of the steel and intricate work of the weapon. Yathas informed them they had been specially made for their mother as a reward from Sa’themar Nightflame for her outstanding skills. Tiene never took her eyes off the dagger as Duthan studied it. “Where is Nightflame now?” she asked.

“I heard he had died about three years ago,” Yathas said, his voice tinged with sadness. He saw the disappointment in his daughter’s face, and knew why she had asked. He took a deep breath. “But, his son, Sauren, now leads the Crimson Blade.”

Tiene looked up, hopeful. Her father smiled, and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Yes, Tiene. I think we know it is in your blood too. I will write to Sauren and inform him that you wish to train. Then we will need to wait for his response.”

Inaris winked at Tiene. She was really excited by the prospect of training to be a rogue and could not contain it. She hugged her father.

“I will do you, and mother proud, I promise,” she said.

Her father put the contents back in the box, and the re-sheathed daggers were once more secreted away in their leather covering.

Duthan left to go join the Farstriders at the lodge. Last minute arrangements were required before he left with Lor’themar on their mission to finish the Amani trolls.

As Tiene made her way towards her room, Inaris lightly caught her arm. “I have to ask, did you need to use it?”

She looked at him, confused.

“The blade. Last night.” He prompted.

“Oh!” she grinned. “I didn’t  _need_  to, no. But I  _did_ , anyway.” Inaris’ eyes widened. ” Worry not Inaris,” she continued. “I am well aware that I am beneath Dar’Khan’s standards. I do think he’s attractive and has style, but that is not enough for me neither. I had suggested to him that we pretend there was something between us though, so father would send me to train, but after this morning, well...” she sighed and bounced excitedly on her toes, “... that will be unnecessary.”

 

* * *

 

*Anar’alah - By the Light


	5. Brothers

* * *

 

Seeing the last of his arrows and extra bows were primed and ready, Duthan gathered his armaments and loaded them onto the cart. The rangers’ weaponry was being transported to Tranquillien, a small settlement in neighbouring Ghostlands and then on to the Farstrider Enclave, which was sited nearby on the southern shore of Lake Elrendar. This was to be the rangers’ base for their attack on the Amani trolls whose camps and capital of Zul’Aman lay to the south east. Retaining ample missiles in a quiver and one of his favoured bows to aid them in their journey to Ghostlands, Duthan secured the last of his weaponry to the cart when Lor’themar joined him and seen to his own supplies. “Any news then?” Duthan asked.

“Aye, and it’s not good my friend.” They finished securing the cart and shouted to the young boy steering it, to head out. They watched as three carts trundled towards the entrance of Silvermoon. The two rangers headed back to the lodge to collect some final items for their trek. Keeping his voice low, Lor’themar informed Duthan of latest developments. “It seems our king is none too pleased with the Alliance. He complains bitterly of their poor leadership and it resulting in the devastation of our forests. It looks like he is ready to abandon the Alliance altogether.”

“War is war, though Lor’themar, casualties are inevitable. I doubt we would have fared any better without the Alliance fighting by our side.”

“True, but this is politics Duthan, a subject I prefer not to get involved with. Give me a bow in my hand instead of a quill, any day.”

Duthan smiled, he knew of his friend’s loathing of politics, he also knew however, he had the makings of a good leader too, although Lor’themar would dispute this.

“What of the Ranger General, has she voiced an opinion?”

“Hmm,” Lor’themar cocked an eyebrow. “Sylvanas will fight for Quel’thalas to the end, but I’m not sure how she will feel when she hears about her sisters. Both Vereesa and Alleria are still devoted to the Alliance and I hear that Alleria has tried to advocate our remaining with them, but it has fallen on deaf ears. She has since crossed into the Dark Portal with her unit of Rangers. I fear we may never see them again.”

Gathering the last of their things, they headed out with the rest of the unit, Lor’themar leading his squad and Sylvanas further ahead still, at the helm of entire Ranger unit. Lor’themar fell back slightly to march beside Duthan, still in quiet conversation. “This battle we go to Duthan will be arduous, of that I have no doubt. Their numbers may be depleted since we fought back the Horde, but still they are a formidable enemy and their loathing of us, of all elven kind really, is inbred in them. I cannot foresee a timely end to this conflict.”

“Well, aren’t you the cheery soul today,” Duthan smirked, glancing sideways at his captain.

Lor’themar smirked back then laughed lightly. “Added responsibility brings out the morbidity in me.”

“If responsibility does that to  _you_ , let’s pray Dar’Khan doesn’t get the recognition  _he_  desires then.”

Lor’themar’s smirk faltered slightly. Duthan felt instant remorse for having implied the captain’s friend had dubious intentions. “Apologies, Lor’themar. He is your friend, that was unkind of me.”

Lor’themar looked at him, his lips forming a wistful smile. “No need to apologise Duthan. I suppose  _friend_  is perhaps a little generous. I owe him a debt for getting the Lady Liadrin, Galell and myself out of a sticky situation once, but that is about it really. We are  _friendly_ , more than we are friends I would say. But, yes. How did it turn out last night then? I thought it best to leave once Tiene went walking with him.”

“Inaris’ nose was put out of joint,” Duthan laughed quietly.

Lor’themar smirked. “Oh? How so?”

“Dar’Khan ported himself and Tiene out of Inaris’ viewpoint.”

Lor’themar looked surprised. “He did  _what_? I can understand Inaris being annoyed then. Also, it was inappropriate of Dar’Khan to do that.”

“I suppose so, but it was funny seeing Inaris’ face. He’s not used to being outsmarted.”

The two of them laughed again. “I take it everything turned out alright though, or else you wouldn’t be here.” Lor’themar commented.

Duthan puffed out his chest, his voice filled with pride. “My little sister took good care of herself, apparently.”

“Did she  _have_  to?”

“No, not as far I can gather. But, she took a blade with her in case.”

“She  _what_?”

“I know! Little Tiene, not so little now, really. I think she will also make a very skilled rogue.”

“You spoke to your father then?”

“Didn’t need to, she did it herself, albeit a little bluntly to begin with, remember?”

“Ah yes, her announcement at the dinner table,” Lor’themar nodded.

“We spoke at length this morning, all of us. Turns out, father was also in the Crimson Blades.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“It doesn’t? Took Inaris and me a moment to grasp, let alone Tiene.”

“Well, not being blood kin, sometimes you see things immediate family do not.”

Duthan nodded. That made sense he guessed. “Anyway, father is going to write requesting she train with the Crimson Blades.”

“That is great news, Duthan. She will do well, I am sure of it.”

A shout from up front made Lor’themar return to the head of his squad. The unit had reached the exit of Silvermoon, The Shepherd’s Gate.

The Ranger General, Sylvanas Windrunner, turned to speak to her Rangers. She was a formidable woman. The middle of three sisters, Sylvanas in many ways outshone her kin and had succeeded her mother Lireesa in becoming Ranger General. She was a strong leader with an unequalled ferocity in defending her people. It was easy to be deceived into thinking that she was simply another fragile elf female in need of protection going by her slender figure, flowing blonde hair and alabaster beauty of her elven features. But once she donned the leather armour, picked up her bow and nocked an arrow pointing it in your direction, you knew you had little, if any chance, of dodging that missile. Her entire body was an extension of that weapon. She excelled at her military craft and she expected nothing less from her rangers. If you were in any way weak, you were dismissed, instantly. Her high expectations did not however, ward off hopeful recruits. It did, if anything, ensure there were plenty of young men and women willing to prove themselves to be in her service. Utter respect was on the faces of all who looked towards her now, as she spoke to her loyal rangers.

“We march into battle once more with the Amani tribe. This time we will wipe them out,  _raze_  them to the ground. I want every man and woman in this unit to be absolutely clear on that matter. We will fight for Quel’thalas and our people until our last breath. We shall prevail. Anu belore dela’na*. Rangers! Move forward!”

The unit of Farstriders moved out and headed south to the burnt lands of Ghostlands.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Inaris made his way to The Sanctum, the warlock’s guild, in Silvermoon City. There, warlocks honed their skills and studied the properties of magic for perfecting their spells. Within Murder Row it was a relatively quiet area of the city housing only one other training hall, that of the rogues, and with the Silvermoon Inn providing refreshment, it was an ideal location for those wishing to focus on their craft.

Already very adept in warlock skills, Inaris still studied enthusiastically, but he had no desire to go to war like his brother. He had, over the years joined in some minor battles, if you could call them such, with the trolls, and had, by all accounts been very effective, but it was not his ultimate goal. He wanted to teach, and he aspired to be the most knowledgeable in his class. Of course, being a bit of a Lothario, becoming a teacher would also make other activities he enjoyed, more likely to be readily available. Particularly if husbands or suitors were away on the front line.

Passing the Students of Shadow guild hall, Inaris’ attention was drawn by a sharp, almost brutal tug at his sleeve. He turned round slowly, half expecting an irate male to punch him, but was amazed to find Tiene looking up at him. His smile conveyed relief, an expression Tiene wasn’t new to seeing.

She shook her head in disbelief at her older brother. One of these days his face was going to run into the fist of a very angry husband, suitor or father and he wouldn’t be so darned handsome after that. “You will never learn, will you?” she said in a reprimanding tone.

“What?” he feigned innocence.

“Honestly, Inaris? You know fine what I mean. And you had the cheek to look all shocked at me this morning?”

“It’s different,” he said with an affectionate smile. “You are my baby sister and still....pure.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You  _are_ , aren’t you?” his voice a hoarse whisper.

She slapped his arm. ” _Yes_  I am, but I am not you  _baby_  sister. I am a grown woman.”

“If you say so,” he smirked. She slapped him again. He laughed. “So what are you doing here then Tiene? I’m on my way to study.”

“I thought I would look in here,” she said gesturing towards The Students of Shadow. “But, it might be best if you sort of introduce me.”

“Oh! I thought you were a grown woman though,” he replied, teasing her. He quickly dodged another slap. Laughing still, he put his arm round her shoulders. “Alright, come on then.”

They stepped into the rogues’ guild and Inaris was greeted by one of the trainers. Tiene looked up at the platinum-haired male. He was called Nerisen and seemed an affable type of person. He obviously knew her brother well going by the way the two of them conversed. Inaris glanced to his left and stopped mid sentence, his attention completely drawn away from Nerisen.

Tiene leaned back to look past her brother. She sighed and rolled her eyes. She should have known. A female had caught his eye. She was tutoring three students and putting them through various moves – dodging, feinting, blocking. Watching and listening, Tiene had to admit she was good. Glancing at her brother it was obvious his admiration had  _nothing_  to do with the woman’s skill. The female rogue looked refined just going by the way she wore her hair, wound up into a tight bun. Her movements were fluid and graceful as she demonstrated what she wanted her students to perform. Tiene saw the competitive look on Nerisen’s face and she realised how the two men were so friendly. Seemed the two of them had some kind of wager going in the lady stakes. Huffing, she nudged her brother as a reminder to why they were there.

Looking round at her, he raised his eyebrows in way of apology then resumed with an introduction. “Nerisen, this is my baby sister, Tiene.” He flinched, trying not to yelp as Tiene nipped his upper arm, digging her nails into him. “She is going to train as a rogue.”

Nerisen bowed his head. “Pleased to meet you Tiene,” he said. “Are you wanting to start training here?”

Tiene suddenly felt embarrassed. She really hadn’t thought this through before asking to come in here. She didn’t want to offend or sound ungrateful but she had her hopes up to train with the Crimson Blades.

“Well,” Inaris spoke quietly so only Nerisen could hear, “Father is requesting she trains with the Crimson Blades, but I wondered if perhaps you could maybe see to giving her a head start, until we hear back from them at least?”

She kept her eyes averted but looked up when she heard Nerisen’s tone. “It would be an honour. It is not often we have the chance to say a Crimson Blade started here.”

Tiene smiled. “I may not be accepted though,” she said.

“Oh, I doubt there will any problem there Tiene.” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Your parents’ reputation is held in high regard.” He smiled as her expression showed surprise at his knowledge of her parents past. “There is little does not reach our ears within our specialisation, Tiene.”

Inaris leaned in. “And will she train with  _you_ , or with that divine creature over there,” he bobbed his head in the female trainer’s direction.

Nerisen stretched his neck and rounded his shoulders. “Tiene will start with  _this_  divine creature first,” he said posing and gesturing to himself. Tiene couldn’t help but giggle.

Inaris laughed but his mirth soon dissipated when Nerisen continued. “Then, when I take Cel to dinner this evening, I will put forth that she trains Tiene in the more specialist skills of being a rogue.”

“Oh!” Inaris said, his face showing defeat. “You have dinner arranged?”

Nerisen shrugged. “Well, not yet no, but....”

Inaris had moved swiftly over to the female named Cel and was introducing himself. Tiene and Nerisen watched as he made great play that he wished for his young sister to train, and having watched Cel’s methods but a few moments ago, wondered if she could at all, make space in her busy schedule to take on another student.

Tiene wondered how on Azeroth these two males remained friends if her brother’s behaviour just now was anything to go by. Nerisen seemed to read her mind. He laughed lightly and whispered, “Oh, he hasn’t won yet Tiene.”

Tiene rolled her eyes and sighed.  _Men_ , she thought.

* * *

 

* Anu belore dela’na – The sun guides us


	6. Baby Steps

* * *

 

Tiene’s first day of official training and she was both excited and nervous. She had been desperate to take her mother’s blades but her father assured her it was early days and she would not be using real daggers. She would train, initially with wooden ones. She could not hide her disappointment, although after due consideration, she had to admit it made sense. It wouldn’t do if she wounded, or worse, killed her trainers on the first day. She had a wicked sense of humour, and she had to laugh at the absurdity of such a thought.

Rushing about trying to find particular boots she needed, a belt, trying on about three different combos before finally settling for a shaped, deep blue cloth tunic and pants that enabled her to move easily, with no restrictions nor cumbersome extra material, she had been but a blur in the house. Yathas was explaining the importance of some breakfast as she shot out the door with a half-eaten moonberry muffin in her mouth while fighting her way into the sleeves of her jacket. She mumbled a goodbye and hurried on along the street towards Murder Row. She had just rammed the last of her breakfast into her mouth as she turned the corner and smacked straight in to Dar’Khan who came from the opposite direction.

“Ar’aan!” she mumbled through a mouthful of moonberry muffin. “’orry.”

The high elf magister grinned. “Why, if it isn’t my intended!” He made a flourish of bowing, taking her hand and kissing it.

Tiene glanced about her, making sure no-one over-heard or saw Dar’Khan’s display. It really was unnecessary now, even though he was utterly delectable. She inched back as he leaned down to look closer at her. She was chewing furiously to try and get rid of her breakfast, but muffins weren’t the easiest of foods to swallow quickly. It literally caked the roof of her mouth and all round her gums, making coherent conversation impossible.

Dar’Khan smiled as he flicked a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “Lucky muffin,” he whispered.

She blushed, not knowing why, but sensing some sort of deviant inference from the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. “’Scoosh muh,” she managed, nearly choking.

“Squeeze you? Why Tiene, my lovely! We have not even kissed... _yet_ ,” he teased her. She blushed more and this time the food caught in her throat causing her to cough. Now she was betwixt ejecting the semi-chewed muffin on the ground between his feet, or trying to stifle the cough and keeping her mouth closed. Her face was reddening with the effort even more than it had through her embarrassment a moment ago.

Dar’Khan unclipped a flask from his belt and uncorking it, offered it to her. She furrowed her brow. “It is just water, Tiene. Take a sip, it will help wash that down.”

She accepted the flask, nodding gratitude, and drank, very slowly, so as not to make matters worse. Gradually, her mouth was cleansed and the muffin swallowed. She ran her tongue around her gums and teeth before attempting to speak. “Thank you,” she managed, handing him his flask back. Although she still felt a little embarrassed by the whole situation, she had to muster enough bravado to maintain her dignity. ” _Excuse me_ , is what I said by the way.”

“Are you sure?” he cocked an eyebrow at her, and the corner of his mouth curled in a teasing smile.

” _Quite_  sure, Dar’Khan. Now, I have places to be,” she side-stepped to move round him.

He extended his arm and caught her on the way past. “Come now, dearest,” he drew her to him. She was once more flustered. He held her very close. Too close. She suddenly felt like one of the forest squirrels, trapped by a lynx. “No dagger today, my lady?” His mouth was inches from hers.

She had to think quickly. Looking over his shoulder she waved and said, “Inaris!”

The magister turned to look behind him, momentarily loosening his hold of her. Inaris was nowhere to be seen. He realised he had just been played. Turning his attention back to Tiene he found he was duped once again. She had simply vanished. As he looked down the street he finally saw her materialise. So, she had already learned how to stealth. “Clever girl,” he said to himself. He could not help but chuckle as he watched her heading to Murder Row.

She stood for a moment outside the Students of Shadow hall and simply stared inside, watching aspiring young rogues already being put through their paces at this early hour. There was no denying she felt a little nervous. She was going to be the newbie, which no doubt would be evident to all inside. She had found out all the other trainers and specialist ’s names from the day before, so she made a mental note of who was present now. Zelanis another male trainer was present. He was another grade up from Nerisen. His hair, though much shorter than many elf males, was slicked back from his face and teased out in spikes at the back. Tiene thought he looked particular odd with his long sideburns which were also spiked giving him almost a cat-like appearance. He was nonetheless, extremely agile and from the way he attacked the dummies at the rear of the hall, also lethal.

At a table near the centre of the hall, was Darlia. She was the one you went to for your poison supplies. Judging from the variety of vials, oddly shaped glass containers, herbs, pestle and mortars, she didn’t just supply, she manufactured the lethal liquids as well. Tiene silently prayed she also had antidotes for the inevitable self-inflicted mistakes of budding students. While her speciality was poisons for coating weapons, Darlia was also an outstanding dagger wielder in her own right. The stunning high elf’s colouring was apt for her profession. Red hair, signifying the danger that lurked beneath her delicate and deft fingers.

Tiene smirked as she saw Nerisen engaged in hushed conversation with the stunning Cel.  _Is he perhaps getting his dinner date finally_ , she wondered.  _Inaris will be upset._

Off behind them was the final trainer in the guild. Quiet, unassuming, Elara. At least, she was that way until you armed her with daggers and orders, or so rumour had it anyway. Her beautiful auburn hair was worn loose, hiding her dainty features as she sat on the floor, arms knotted round her knees, waiting patiently for her students.

It dawned on Tiene that the rogues here were all striking in their own ways, and all very personable. A little niggle of self-doubt flared. She seen herself as bland and gangly compared to the beauties in the hall. Even the men outshone her. She moved in a little, peeked round a pillar at the door and studied some of the students in training. One girl and five boys. The trainee girl was very pretty, and getting admiring looks from two of the boys. Tiene had never experienced that neither, a boy paying her attention. Lately, she had found herself wondering about such things. With no mother to guide her, and no-one she could call a particularly close friend, she had relied on listening in to other girl’s conversations in the passing, to find out the necessary things a young woman needed to know. And still she was none the wiser. The most she had learned from them was about the weaponsmith in Farstriders Square who liked to fool around with his customer’s daughters, while his poor suffering wife stayed at home alone, though rumour had it she was finding attention elsewhere too. It was confusing this, becoming a woman thing.

She trembled slightly as she remembered Dar’Khan holding her so close minutes ago. He didn’t count though as that would only have been pretend anyway, but ... it just wasn’t right to feel the kind of things she felt when he was near. Or was it? That unbalanced mix of sheer delight, sweet anticipation, a smattering of fear, constant blushing, all topped with strangely delicious sensations in her lower abdomen. She felt her face flush, yet again.

Still, she did not see herself drawing a man who was looking for an obedient wife. She was a feisty, sometimes moody little miss, quick to rise to anger and always wanting to do more than just humdrum daily things like chores. She hungered for excitement, new places to go to and explore, new people to meet and things to do. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she was so rebellious against her father’s vision of her being a stay-at-home type of girl, with a husband and six screaming children running round her feet.

But in this, the world of a rogue, an assassin, a thief...she believed she could excel at something. With sound guidance and proper training, it wouldn’t matter that she was plain and uninteresting, it would be to her advantage. Knowing what she did about her parents now, she was determined to succeed. It was something she could truly focus on. And, if she was accepted by The Crimson Blades .....

“You’re late, Firefury!”

She jumped at the voice booming behind her. Nerisen stood with arms folded, as he looked down at her, a stern expression on his face. Tiene was utterly taken aback. This was not how he spoke to her yesterday. A moment later, his mouth broke into a smile. “Only teasing you,Tiene,” he laughed.

She smiled a little hesitantly. “Sorry, Nerisen. I bumped into a ...  _friend_  on the way over and we got chatting.”

“Well, you’re here now, so let’s start your training.” He turned and headed out of the guild hall into the street. She followed, a little bemused at their leaving the place where she needed to be. He turned and met her confused expression. It was one he had seen many times on the faces of new students. “What do you know about rogues, Tiene?”

She paused and thought a moment. “Thieves and assassins, who operate mainly for themselves, unless in a guild or employed by someone who pays good coin.”

She was quite pleased by her answer and stood smiling at Nerisen.

“And?” he coaxed.

“And  _what_?” she replied, disappointed he didn’t congratulate her on her definition.

“What else do you know about us?”

“Well...” she stared at the ground, thinking furiously, trying to get her brain to come up with a decent answer. “We’re ... _good_  at what we do?” she finally said, knowing it was lame.

Nerisen smiled a  _here we go again_  type of smile. He had had high hopes that she may have known more with her parents having been such exceptional examples. Then again, Inaris had informed him that she had only found out about them recently and such things had never been part of dinner time conversation in the Firefury household.

He indicated for her to follow him and he made his way out through Murder Row. “If you want to be one of us Tiene, you must proceed with baby steps and familiarise yourself with our history, or to be more accurate, with some of the finest rogues that have come to pass and those that were and indeed  _are_  pioneers for our craft and abilities. We shall find such information at the library.”

Inwardly, Tiene was gutted that her first lesson was going to be theory. She just wanted to get down to mutilating, garrotting and rupturing the foe . The thought of spending hours trawling through books in the library about dead people really did not appeal to her. But, she had to. She remembered her father saying that his training at times had been boring too, so she would have to just persevere.

Once they reached the Walk of The Elders, Nerisen seemed oddly lost. The library was a mere ten feet away from where they were standing and he was looking around in all directions. Tiene rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long day. She stood, arms folded and tapping an impatient foot. Nerisen glanced over his shoulder at his obviously irritated student. He grinned. She was going to be a challenge to train in  _so_  many ways. He thought he would let her get a little more annoyed, just for the fun of it.

A few minutes passed before finally her frustration could be contained no more. “Nerisen. The library is just over there!” she said, pointing at the domed building to their right.

“I know,” he replied, keeping his back to her so she would not see him grinning.

“Well, I thought we were  _going_  to the library!” she huffed.

“Yes. We are.” He stifled a laugh as he heard her emit an irritated sigh.

She was getting gradually more and more agitated, and soon she started to mutter under her breath, although Nerisen could hear her perfectly well. “Oh for the love of....”

“Dar’Khan! There you are!” Nerisen greeted the magister. The two shook hands and exchanged greetings. Tiene huffed again.

“Ahh, Tiene, my lovely,” Dar’Khan drawled. “So  _you_  are the new student. I wondered where you were off to in such a hurry this morning.”

“Oh, you know each other?” Nerisen asked her. She nodded. Surely he knew that, being friends with Inaris.

“Yes,” Dar’Khan said. “She was gulping down her breakfast, running away from me to... _you_ , as it happens.”

Nerisen smiled. “Well, if you would be so kind as to portal us to the library please, time is getting on.”

“Are you serious?” Tiene gasped. “It’s just over there!” Again she pointed to the building to their right.

The two high elves laughed lightly. Nerisen turned to face Tiene properly for the first time since they had arrived in the Walk of the Elders. “Did I say it was  _this_  library we were going to?”

“You  _said_  we were goi...” she stopped. Now she got it. He had been testing her patience, something you need as a rogue, and as such she reckoned she had just failed lesson one.

Dar’Khan obviously found this amusing she could tell, as he stood, arms crossed with one hand raised to his face where he was tapping his chin with his forefinger and grinning. “Oh my lovely, you are so feisty!” He turned momentarily to Nerisen. “That’s what I like about her, you know? She has so much  _spirit_.”

Tiene was absolutely fuming now and she struggled to keep her temper at bay. She hated being ridiculed and spoken about as if she were some tempestuous imbecile. She swallowed, took a deep breath and deliberately blanking the magister, asked Nerisen which library they were going to.

He told her it was a surprise and nodded to Dar’Khan, who then conjured a portal in front of them. Nerisen beckoned Tiene and together they passed through the blue and purple swirls. It snapped shut behind them and she was surprised to see Dar’Khan had travelled through as well.

“Are you coming with us too?” she asked him, none too pleased at the prospect. He had embarrassed and annoyed her enough for one day.

He bowed. “Alas no. I have pressing business nearby however, well fairly nearby. I am going to visit Dalaran. The young Prince Kael’thas requests news from home.”

Tiene’s ill-temper dissipated instantaneously. “The Prince? You know the Prince?”

The Magister grinned. “Of course I do, Tiene. Would you like me to pass on your regards?”

The golden-haired elf guffawed. “As if it would mean anything to him,” she said.

“He is our future king,” the Magister replied, “and you will be one of his subjects, my lovely. Of course it will mean something to him.”

Tiene dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand.

Dar’Khan laughed lightly and opened another portal before he said farewell to Nerisen. He turned his enigmatic smile towards Tiene again. “By the way, next time I make you breakfast, eat it before you run out on me.” She watched as he stepped into the portal and vanished.

It wasn’t until she turned and saw Nerisen’s expression that she was alerted to the implication behind the Magister’s words. She blushed furiously. “He is making fun of me,” she said. “I was at home, ask Inaris.”

Her trainer nodded, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Turning to face the top of the rise from where they stood, he indicated the building that sat atop the hill.

“Welcome to the rogue’s academy, Tiene. This is Ravenholdt Manor.”


	7. A Blessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyn Godwin is an OC of my friend Sara@Finfychan on Wattpad. She kindly allowed me to introduce Fyn and Louvel Nottley who appears later in the story. Thank you Sara :)

* * *

 

Nerisen introduced Tiene to Lord Jorach Ravenholdt. Jorach, Lord of Assassins, was a human rogue who put skill and dedication high above faction. He cared not whether your kin were high elf, night elf, dwarf, gnome or human as long as your dedication was to your craft.

Proud though he was of his own guild of killers and thieves, he had no qualms about inviting those from other guilds into the manor. He firmly believed all like-minded individuals and groups should work together in honing skills and learning from each other.

That was not to say, that all who arrived at the manor were of the same frame of mind. There had been on occasion, some unappreciative visitors who allowed politics to cloud their judgement. They were despatched. Immediately.

By all accounts, Nerisen was a fairly regular visitor to the manor and was welcomed by all he encountered as he showed Tiene through the academy. He was warmly greeted by another elf, Myrokos Silentform and they spoke as if they were old friends. He did however, express that he thought it may be unlikely they could stay long, as many soldiers were using the manor as a rest stop en route to their homes.

There were in fact, quite a large number of people visiting the manor this day. A lot of battle-weary rogues were coming and going as Tiene was being shown round the premises. A few hunters, paladins and warriors were also amongst the visitors as were priests and a few druids. It was not the norm for those not of the rogue’s persuasion to be in the grounds, but these were friends and fellow soldiers who had accompanied the rogues to the manor on their way home, wherever home was.

As her trainer seemed distracted in his catch-up with Myrokos, Tiene wandered around, listening in to some of the conversations of those returning from battle. A few of those she neared nodded their heads in greeting or said a quiet hello. She was struck at how the faces of the men and women were so haunted looking. The snippets of conversation she overheard made it fully understandable. The horrors they had seen were truly stuff of nightmares. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard tales of their comrades and family members being hacked down by the trolls and other races aligned with the Horde. Friends, brothers, sisters and fathers and mothers had all fallen. Villages razed to the ground where nought survived. Her mind suddenly filled with pictures of Duthan heading out to fight the Amani trolls on the border of their homeland. A gasp escaped her as the terrible possibility of losing him hit home. Tears sprang to her eyes.

“My child,” a kindly voice spoke. She turned to find a little human priest speaking to her. A solitary tear trickled down Tiene’s cheek. “Oh my dear, have you lost someone close to you?”

Tiene stared at the holy man. He was a slightly odd little individual. He had a kindly face, but there was an air of melancholy about him. He was well dressed, in robes of purple edged with eternium embroidered runes around the hem, neckline and long open cuffs. Yet, he did not appear to be of particular affluence. He inched a little further forward lifting his face up to look at her better. His eyebrows hitched up high on his forehead in a wordless enquiry. She shook her head a little and focused squarely on the priest.

“No, I haven’t, thank you. I was just...well I overheard some of their stories and...”

“Ah, yes. Many have experienced much sorrow and loss. Now they must heal in more ways than a simple potion or spell can manage.” He smiled wanly and turned to leave.

For some unfathomable reason, Tiene felt she needed to express her concerns about her brother. Who better than a holy man to voice such fears to. “I am worried now about my brother though,” she said quickly as his little form moved away.

The priest came back to her and placed a consoling hand on her arm. “I see. Would you like to talk about it?” he asked kindly.

“Yes,” she heard herself saying.

“Shall we stroll outside then, child? It is a little overcrowded in here for now,” he glanced around making sure he had assessed the situation correctly then, seemingly satisfied with his assumption, looked back up at Tiene with a crooked little smile. “Tis a lovely day outside, and fresh air does help to clear the mind of its troubles too.” He bowed and gestured for her to go first.

She was quite taken by his quaint manners and slightly frail little frame. He looked in need of some care himself if truth be told. Nothing that a good meal and hot steaming cup of honeymint tea wouldn’t put right, she thought.

They ventured out into the small garden area and walked slowly between some of the growing vegetables and herbs. The abundance of lavender and peacebloom soon masked the more pungent scents of goldthorn and silverleaf which seemed to be relatively rife in the area. There was a bench half way along the allotment, where the priest gestured for Tiene to take a seat. She smiled her thanks and he sat down beside her.

“What do I call you?” she asked.

“Oh, forgive me. I am Fyn Godwin. And your name, child?”

“Tiene Firefury,” she answered. “How do I address you though? I cannot call you just Priest.”

He smiled, a small chuckle tumbled from his thin lips. “I do not have, nor do I believe in titles, Tiene. Fyn will do nicely.”

“Fyn,” she repeated as if testing how it sounded.

“Now then, your brother. Tell me about him.”

She proceeded to talk about Duthan and his current mission to fight the Amani trolls with the Farstriders. As she spoke of him, her heart swelled with pride. He had worked hard as a ranger and had deserved his position as lieutenant. The rangers under his command were loyal and respectful men and women, who Duthan always saw were well rewarded for serving their Ranger General and protecting their home of Quel’thalas.

Now however, with the second war, as such, recently over and the incarceration of some of the orcs and others sent back through the Dark Portal, it remained to the rangers to root out the Amani trolls who had joined the Horde during the war. The trolls were a fierce race, well versed in war strategy and tactics. She feared that they would be even more formidable having adopted the aid and influence of the Horde. Ultimately, she feared for the safe return of her brother and also Lor’themar, who was basically like a third brother to her.

Fyn listened without interruption as the young elf told her story. She clearly had a very strong bond with her brother, something which he felt a little envious of.

Sadly, he lacked a good relationship with his sibling, and his father for that matter. His brother was the favoured one, as a warrior, he was out fighting whenever, wherever he was required. Fyn, on the other hand, had been a bit of a disappointment to his father and that was putting it mildly.

He was as good as disowned when he announced his wish to join the priesthood. His father considered it a coward’s way out of serving his king and Azeroth. He would not listen to Fyn when he tried to explain that he would be a devout priest who would go out to the battlefield and aid those brave men and women in the midst of war so they could return to their homes and families and fight another day if need be. But his father would hear none of it, and that was the day Fyn “lost” his family.

He looked at the young girl in front of him and saw so much love in her heart for her family. It touched him deeply. Even when she continued on past her concerns for Duthan’s safety and told Fyn about the jests and tricks he and her other brother, Inaris, liked to put her through. She smiled fondly as her memories of their teasing spilled forth. She spoke also of how they tried to ready her for a future in the livelihood of a rogue, an assassin, a thief. She apologised at that point for wanting to kill people, but said she felt she had a path to follow, and that path was in her parent’s footsteps, and it would only be done for the better of elf kind and all the allied races in Azeroth.

“Well,” Fyn said when it was clear she had finished her story. “I am sure your brothers, even your  _adopted_  one, Lor’themar, was it?” he paused for confirmation. She nodded. “They will look out for each other, and all their fellow rangers will do likewise. There are no guarantees in this life child, but friendship and kinship are strong forces in themselves. And what’s more, they have  _you_  to come home to. Now what better safeguard could there be? Other than the Light of course.” His little eyes sparkled.

Tiene seemed to take comfort from his words, and she smiled her gratitude. “What of you, Fyn. Where is home for you, and what about your family.”

The priest sighed slowly, the light in his eyes dimmed momentarily then shone again as he answered, “My home is in Stormwind and my family...” he gestured back up to the manor, then more generously across the vista in front of them. “...they are all who go to battle, child. It is my calling to tend to the wounded and the sick and offer comfort where I can.” He looked into her azure eyes. “Although I pray you never suffer such injuries as those I have tended to over the years, I also hope I may be at hand and able to help if needed.”

Tiene took hold of the priest’s frail hand and thanked him.

“There you are!” Nerisen’s voice called as he neared her and Fyn. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You have some serious studying to do, Tiene. However, as it is so busy here today,” he nodded respect to the little priest,” I think we shall borrow the books needed and head home. It will be your night-time reading.”

Tiene stood. There was a touch of regret that she was leaving so soon, and strangely, it was not because it was the rogue’s academy. She had enjoyed the company of the little priest. She smiled fondly at his thin face and sparkling eyes. “Thank you Fyn,” she said. “You have eased my mind. I hope we meet again someday, and preferably not on a battlefield.”

“I hope so too young Tiene. May the Light bless and keep your family safe.”

Before she left the manor grounds, she turned back and looked up the hill. Fyn was making his way back inside, and being greeted and thanked by many of the war weary fighters. She noted there was a sadness he bore and she thought it may go deeper than the things he had witnessed in war.

“Elu’meniel mal alann*, Fyn Godwin,” she whispered.

 

* * *

 

* Elu’meniel mal alann - May peace calm your heart


	8. A Promising Student

* * *

 

In the absence of Dar’Khan and his portal ability, Nerisen & Tiene had made their way south east of the manor and north of Southshore to the nearest flight path at Tarren Mill. One of the town’s suppliers who had also been visiting the manor to provide provisions for the influx of soldiers, had kindly offered them passage when he was returning to the town. Nerisen also bought some fruit from the merchant and Tiene sat quietly munching some as they trundled along.

Tiene also tried to look at one of the books Nerisen had brought with them, but she was distracted by the surrounding countryside, so placed it back in the satchel he had provided. She had never been any farther than Fairbreeze Village in Eversong Woods, and that had only been by accident when she had been stalking a lynx. So the sights around the Hillsbrad foothills were of great interest to her. Although not as colourful as her beloved Quel’thalas, the countryside was still lush and vibrant in many hues of green.

She noted the mountain lions, similar to the lynx back home but more vicious and powerful. They were, nonetheless, beautiful creatures. Bears and spiders about the same size as the bears, could be seen a safe distance away as they roamed the hillsides, while snapjaw turtles roamed around the river that ran from the Western Plaguelands in the north all the way to Southshore on the coast. The wildlife was certainly varied, and her eye caught sight of the most peculiar creature. It was like an owl almost, with a huge beak, its body covered in feathers and with antlers on its head. Its wings were more like just feather-covered arms and did not appear capable of flight. It walked upright like a man, in fact it was as tall as a man, but that was all the resemblance it bore to a humanoid. Soon another appeared, then another. The merchant was kind enough to tell her they were called owlbeasts and there were many different kinds throughout the continent. The ones here however, were savage and not to be trifled with unless you knew what you were doing.

Their journey to Tarren Mill did not take too long and soon they were thanking the merchant for his kindness. They took a moment to get their bearings. The effects of the war were still evident, would be for months to come yet, and that included everywhere, not just in this small town. Some buildings, having been razed to the ground by invading orcs, were slowly being rebuilt and the scorched land surrounding the town was in the process of being cultivated for the following season’s crops.

Children ran around the town’s small square, giggling and squealing playing chase, sometimes nearly bumping into the adults who were busy transporting timbers and stone for the rebuilds. An occasional warning from parents and tradesmen alike soon had the children venturing more to the outskirts of the town to play, so preventing any accidents. Tiene could not help but wonder if those children had bore witness to some of the horrors of the war. Had they seen the monsters from Draenor? She herself had only heard about the orcs – hulking beasts with tusks that protruded from their jaws, hands the size of shovels that could crush an elf like they were squeezing juice from a snapvine watermelon. As if the trolls weren’t bad enough! She shuddered. With the war over for a few weeks now, Tiene hoped that whatever the future held, it would not be as dire as this war had been.

Nerisen made his way to the flight master with Tiene following closely. It seemed this would be another first for her. She had never had the need to use a flight path before, whether it be griffins, as it was here, or dragonhawks back home. She was nervous of the giant bird-lion type beasts. They looked like they could give a nasty bite. The flight master assured her they were docile creatures only likely to turn nasty in the event they had to defend themselves or protect those that rode them. Nerisen told her not to worry, as they would share the same mount.

He handed her the satchel in which he stored her books for learning and she shrugged it onto her shoulders. Nerisen mounted the griffin first then leaned down, offering his hand to pull her up. She swung her leg over the saddle of the beast and quickly grabbed Nerisen by the waist as the griffin lurched forward. It made a loud screech before it started to beat its wings, then with a couple of steps forward, it soared into the air. Tiene shut her eyes tightly as the ground disappeared beneath her and she clung even tighter to her trainer. Gradually, one at a time, she opened them again and was struck at the sights below. It was wondrous! The griffin glided as the updrafts from between the Hillsbrad Hills kept it buoyant with little effort. Only now and again did it need to flap its wings to gain altitude or slightly change direction. It was exhilarating!

In the distance she could make out the City of Dalaran on the edge of Lordamere Lake. As they closed the distance she marvelled at the high towers and spires of the city. It was magical, and the base of  _The Six_ , the Ruling Council also known as the Kirin Tor, High Council of Dalaran. The Six were the most influential magi in the kingdoms, although not necessarily the most powerful. Magic was only one of the qualities for which a magi was elected to the council. Knowledge of many other things were paramount too.

The most talked about structure in Dalaran was the Chamber of Air. A room in the highest structure in the city, where the council would hold their most secret meetings and make decisions of the utmost importance. Of those who had attended an audience with the Six and perhaps let the odd detail slip, the room was rumoured to be more of a floating platform where no walls could be seen, only the appearance of the sky which changed as it revolved rapidly through time. Tiene was hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystical room as they approached on the enormous griffin, but it was not to be. The path the great bird took veered off to the north east before they so much as touched the outskirts of the city. A fleeting thought crossed her mind that Dar’Khan would probably still be in the company of Prince Kael’thas. She would ask the Magister if he had ever seen the Chamber of Air when next they met.

It was not long before they crossed the border into Ghostlands. Tiene’s heartbeat quickened as Nerisen informed her they were about to fly over Zul’Aman, the home city of the Amani trolls. She clung tighter to his waist as she strained her eyes to see if there was any sign of her brother and his Rangers in the vicinity. It seemed relatively quiet in the area, which on one hand was a relief, but also gave rise to a sense of foreboding. Nerisen tried to reassure his young student that the Rangers were most likely still at Farstrider Enclave, a little further north and that their attack on the trolls had not yet commenced. She drew little comfort from that assumption, but on recalling Fynn’s words of wisdom, decided that Nerisen was probably right and she should try to just have faith that her brother and Lor’themar would arrive home safely in the next few weeks or so, hopefully much sooner if things went well.

The land soon changed again as they flew over the beautiful vibrant colours of Eversong Woods, and onto the last lap of their journey. Judging from the sun’s position in the sky it was early afternoon and when they touched down just outside Silvermoon’s Shepherd’s Gate, Tiene was suddenly overcome by hunger. As they walked briskly through the city towards The Students of Shadow guild hall, it dawned on her that she had not eaten since breakfast, other than some fruit Nerisen had purchased for them from the merchant who had taken them to Tarren Mill. Her stomach growled loudly, confirming her need of food to Nerisen.

“Go home,” he said. “Take these books with you and study for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, I will test you on what you have learned.”

Tiene felt the weight of the books in the satchel on her back. There were about five books of varying sizes in there. “Well give me a clue to which I should read first please, Nerisen. I can’t get through all of them in one day.”

Nerisen smiled. She had a point and at least she was showing some keenness. “Read the one about kill points, Tiene. You have to understand where best to strike an opponent, not that you will actually be doing that yet, but a sound knowledge of anatomy is crucial as it is the difference to being the killer or the victim.” Tiene thought that sounded quite interesting and nodded her approval. They turned into Murder Row. “Oh,and there is another one in there which I believe is a  _must_  for you,” Nerisen said as he moved away smartly.

“Which one?” she asked quickly before he was out of view.

“Cooking for Beginners,” he answered. She noted the mirth in his reply and frowned slightly. “Could help a bit at home, I hear,” he finished with a smirk before he disappeared into the guild hall.

Only her brother could have informed Nerisen of that. She made a mental note to reprimand Inaris for divulging her failings in the kitchen. Then again, she was in such a good mood after today’s excursion to Ravensholdt Manse, that she thought she might even try a recipe in the said cookbook. Lor’themar had kindly ensured they were well stocked in many items still for the next few days, so there should be ample provisions to try something.

Time was getting on, and so she didn’t have too long before her brother and father would arrive home, so she picked up the pace and headed along Farstriders Square.

Two hours later and Yathas and Inaris were greeted by the appetising smell of roasted meat and something containing a little spice. They were more than just pleasantly surprised to find Tiene placing plates of steaming food on the dining table. The only down side, was the amount of pots and utensils she had piled up in the kitchen which she had used to create the masterpiece. Father and son looked at each other with a small smile, both of the same mind,  _can’t expect perfection just yet._ At least the food wasn’t burnt. Now they had to hope it wasn’t raw neither. Tiene saw them standing at the archway into the dining area and excitedly told them to sit. They took their places and were astonished to see the food actually looked very... well ...  _edible_!

“We send you to rogue class and you come back a  _cook_?” Inaris smiled

Tiene wore a forced smile and came up behind her brother. She held in her hand, the cookbook, which she scuffed his head with. He clasped his hand to his head and dodged another possible attack. “Hey!” he winced.

“That’s for telling tales on how ...  _awful_ I was in the kitchen, to Nerisen,” she explained. Then she planted a sisterly kiss on his cheek. “And that’s a thank you for doing so. We picked up a few books for me to study, including this cookbook, which Nerisen said he’d heard I could  _do_  with...” she stared directly at Inaris, whose face was now breaking into a grin again. “But, it helped me make this,” she gestured the fayre on the table. “Roasted boar meat, candied sweet potato and spice bread stuffing.”

The family enjoyed the meal and Tiene spoke avidly of her day and the trip to Ravensholdt Manor. They laughed when she told them of the library incident and how she had thought Nerisen was being a bit stupid to start with. Her father’s face fell just a smidge when she mentioned Dar’Khan and how he had portalled them to Ravensholdt, but he soon smiled again when she explained he was visiting Dalaran as well, so she didn’t see him again after that. She recollected the haunted faces of the soldiers, druids and other passers-through at the Manor but then she smiled as she told her father and brother about Fynn Godwin, the little priest she’d met. Finally of course, her journey home which had been her first flight and utterly amazing.

Yathas was pleased to see his daughter so enthusiastic about her first day training, and hoped it would continue as time went on. He hid a bittersweet smile as he felt a tinge of nostalgia laced with envy. He had not really missed his days as a Crimson Blade, although they had indeed been adventurous, exciting and dangerous, which, back then, were things he thrived upon. And, of course, they had been days he looked forward to when his beautiful Lina had been on missions with him. Still, things changed, and he had to take care of his family, which had been a saving grace indeed.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Determined to be a promising student, Tiene studied the books at every opportunity and even enquired if she could get more. Very rarely did she shirk chores now, she carried them out without complaint and when she wasn’t at guild hall training, she went to her room or out into the woods and studied. And every day, she hoped word had arrived from the Crimson Blade.

She was hooked, and after a few weeks, once she had gained sufficient knowledge of anatomy, weapons, offensive and defensive manoeuvres, poisons and their properties, she was ready to finally begin training with the use of the wooden “blades”.

Still, no word from the Crimson Blade.

Her training, while still with Nerisen most of the time, had progressed to Zelanis, who demonstrated the techniques of various effective strikes. Initially the students used training dummies while they familiarised themselves with the strikes before they would enter a combat ring against each other. When you struck a dummy you had to also shout out the area you were attacking to demonstrate the most effective strike. This had to be in accordance with whatever scenario Zelanis gave you. He would assess you each time and your score would determine how soon you would be put in the combat training ring.

Prior to entering the combat ring, Cel also trained students in moves which could mean the difference between them ending up as pin-cushions or confusing their opponents with the art of surprise by maximising their agility. Tiene had a natural flair and found the training with Cel easy. It was during one of the lessons that Tiene had automatically stealthed, much to the amazement of Cel and the other students. When Tiene came out of concealment, she was greeted with an approving look from her trainer and stunned silence from her fellow students.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, uncertain why they all looked at her open-mouthed.

“Not at all Tiene,” Cel replied. “We have not covered stealth yet however.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tiene was a tad embarrassed.

“How did you do it?” asked Camnath, one of the young males who had started only a week before Tiene.

“Magic,” she replied, surprised that he had to ask. Again she looked around the group. They all seemed astonished. “Is there another way?”

Cel stepped forward. “Yes, Tiene. We do not use magic to stealth, at least, not magic in the traditional sense.”

“Sorry, Instructor Cel. I won’t do it again.”

“Oh no!! Please, by all means you can use it. Perhaps you can also teach it to the group?”

“Well...” Tiene was stunned. “I could, yes, if you wish. I just assumed everyone knew how to do it.”

“We are not all blessed with a wonderful warlock for a brother,” Cel said. Tiene could have sworn a little flush appeared on her instructor’s cheeks.

“And you will still teach the other way that rogues commonly use?” Camnath asked Cel.

“Of course, it is still important and in some situations it may be the better method. Though I dare say, with Tiene’s input, combined, you could well turn out to be one of the best groups we have had in the art of stealth.”

The trainees were enthusiastic to be considered one of the best in the trait. Cel then went on to inform her students, contrary to common belief, not all rogues had been able to master it and so their approach to their work had to be adapted to accommodate the lack of the stealth practice.

The technique was more to do with practicality, although it still required a high level of skill. Firstly, a good knowledge of the area you were going to be working in was essential, so that you would wear appropriate attire. If you were working in the snow covered mountains for example, you did not wear bright coloured garb that made you stand out and become the easiest target on the landscape. It was basic camouflage that was required. In doing so you could then manipulate the natural light and shadow of your environment to enable you to blend with your surroundings. If the skill was honed to a high standard, you would be able to move around unnoticed.

The lesson for the day had come to an end and the students bade good afternoon to their trainers. On the way out, Camnath caught up with Tiene. He was a pleasant looking young man with black hair which he wore in the traditional high ponytail. He was also one of the better students, fiercely dedicated and very focused on his training. He had paid no more attention to Tiene than he did to anyone else in class, but her demonstration today had piqued his interest.

“Tiene!” he called after her. She turned to meet him trotting towards her.

“Camnath. What is it?”

“I was wondering if I could walk you home?”

Tiene was momentarily taken by surprise. “Well, you can if you wish, but I do not have far to go and it is out of your normal way I think.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, I would like to walk with you.”

She nodded and they climbed the stairs to the Court of the Sun. “So,” Camnath began, “I was impressed by your stealth ability today.”

“Oh, well, I feel a bit of a fool to be honest,” she replied, truthfully embarrassed. “I honestly thought it was something all of us learned.”

“No, we don’t,” he smiled. “I would very much like to learn though. I know Cel has asked you to teach us in class, but I thought...well, I hoped ... that perhaps...”

“Well, hello my lovely,” a familiar voice called from across the court. Tiene turned to see Dar’Khan making his way towards them. Inwardly she was annoyed at his intrusion. He surely had the message now that their intended game devised weeks earlier was no longer necessary. But still, whenever he had been in town, he seemed to deliberately look her up. In one way, she was flattered, especially when she saw some of the other girls’ envious faces as the handsome mage paid her attention instead of them. Bland, plain old Tiene had a debonair Magister running after her. Right at this moment however, she had been enjoying the company of someone else which had been most unexpected. Quickly she turned to Camnath. “What was it you were going to ask?”

The young elf eyed the approaching Magister before looking back at Tiene. “It doesn’t matter. I will see you in class tomorrow,” he stepped back.

“Why can’t you tell me now?” she was aware that Dar’Khan was closing the distance.

“You have company,” Camnath said. “I should go.”

“Dar’Khan? He’s only...” she started to explain but Camnath turned and moved away.

The disappointment she felt was almost tangible. She was still looking in the direction the young elf had taken when Dar’Khan reached her. The Magister also watched where her eyes were focused. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked, not altogether in his usual flippant manner.

“Possibly,” Tiene answered, unintentionally aloud. Quickly she tried to steer away from her remark and notable disappointment. “So, what brings you here today then Dar’Khan.”

The Magister stared at her. She caught his gaze and it took her a little by surprise. He did not normally look at her the way did at this precise moment. Much to her annoyance, he still managed to make her feel a little giddy in his presence. She avoided his eyes and stared out across the court. Her foot started tapping. The Magister noticed and a small smile crept on his face. “I am sorry, Tiene. I see I have annoyed you.”

She was instantly drawn back to his gaze. She had not expected an apology and it made her feel ashamed that she was being rude to him. “No, Dar’Khan, you haven’t. I’m sorry for giving that impression.”

“Well, then,” he said with his more familiar flair. “Allow me to escort you home and I will tell you my news.” He gestured that she walk on, and he fell into step with her.

“So what is your news then,” she asked.

“Your brother and Lor’themar will return home tomorrow.”

She halted. Her face lit up. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure,young lady. And I can report that both are well.”

“That is great news. But I thought you implied you had news of your own. I assumed you were going to tell me that you finally had a promotion.”

She noticed his jaw tighten at her words and his eyebows knitted together. After a moment he replied, “No. I’m afraid I have no news of that nature. That is not to say that I am not working on it still.”

“Forgive me, I did not mean to be insensitive.”

He stopped walking as did she. When their eyes met this time, she noted a fire in them she had not seen before. It lasted but a second but she had seen it. And it inexplicably unnerved her. His next action utterly stunned her however. He cupped her chin and gave her the briefest of kisses on her mouth. She staggered back, eyes wide. She was drawn to his mouth, as she always seemed to be. Why did he have this effect on her. The kiss was obviously part of the game he seemed to still want to pursue, even though she had let it be known it was not required any more. But to what purpose? There was nothing going to happen between them. Her surprise turned to irritation once more. “Why do you insist, Dar’Khan?”

“Excuse me?”

“I have told you, there is no need for this pretence. I am in training as a rogue and you do not need to convince my father to allow me to pursue the trade anymore.”

He took a step closer. He lifted his head high and looked down at her with his dazzling sapphire orbs. “And what if, my lovely, my interest in you is no longer for that purpose?”

“What other purpose could there possibly be?”

He circled her. “Perhaps I want to genuinely court you,” he whispered in her ear.

She fought the sensations building in her lower abdomen and forced the flush to stay away from her face and neck. Although she still found him handsome and charming, there was also a side to him she could not pinpoint. The only word she could think to describe it was  _unpredictable_. “No, Dar’Khan. You do not wish to court me, but I sense you take great pleasure in teasing me. Quite why I do not know. Perhaps one day I will have the answer.”

She made to walk away but he grabbed her by her wrist and spun her back into his embrace. Again he kissed her, but deeper this time. When he released her, she lifted her fingers to her mouth, utter astonishment in her eyes.

The sly smile was on his lips once more. “Think carefully then, my lovely, for one day the answer may indeed surprise you. And I will collect on the kiss you promised.” He spun round, his cloak swirling, and walked away.

She stamped her feet in frustration.  _Damn you, Magister_ , she fumed inwardly. She turned and headed home.

As she entered the house her father came to greet her. He stopped as he saw the look of irritation on her face. “Tiene? Is something wrong?”

She shook her head and forced a smile then hugged him. “No, everything is alright, father. I am just a little tired.”

“Ah, alright. But you will be pleased to hear Duthan and Lor’themar will be heading home tomorrow.”

“Yes, I ...” she decided not to inform him she had heard the news already and from Dar’Khan of all people. “I am thrilled by that news father,” she corrected in time. “Shall I cook for them?” She removed her boots and placed them back near the door.

“Well, I think that would be nice, yes. They will be surprised by your new found talent.”

She could not help but smile. He was not wrong, her cooking ability had improved greatly even though it was plain food she prepared, but it was nonetheless wholesome and tasty.

“I have some other news as well,” her father said as he approached her. In his hand he held a letter. “Sauren Nightflame of the Crimson Blade, has finally written back.”

Her fingers twitched, wanting to take the letter, but she was afraid to accept it. “Please just tell me,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice.

Yathas smiled reassuringly. “You will start training with them in a month’s time.”

She squealed delight and bounced up and down on her toes before hugging her father again.


	9. Duel

* * *

 

Training the next morning was plagued with mishaps, minor though they were. Tiene’s mind was on her brother returning from Ghostlands. The battle against the trolls had taken longer than she thought it might and she had missed Duthan and Lor’themar so much. She had went over what she planned on making for dinner about a dozen times or more. She so wanted to do something nice for them and so her decision reached, she had prepared much of it prior to coming to training.

After another bout of naming various attacks and duelling as it were with the dummies under Zelanis’ supervision, they stopped for a break. She sat near the doorway and quietly munched on a goldenbark apple while burying her nose in one of her books. She didn’t notice someone coming over until they sat down beside her with an audible “oof!” when they hit the floor. She turned to see Camnath. He looked a little awkward, so she offered him an apple.

He accepted with a smile. “Thank you,” he said and took a bite. Tiene went back to reading her book while she heard him crunching away on the fruit. She guessed he was back to continue their conversation from the day before, but she would wait until he broached the subject.

“What are you reading?” he asked after a few moments.

“Poisons and their Properties. I borrowed it from Darlia.” She showed him the book.

He nodded. “We are not ready for the use of poisons though,” he commented.

“I know, but it does no harm to understand them in advance.” She smiled and waited for him to say something else. He seemed to be more interested in his apple again. She sighed quietly.

“About yesterday...” he said suddenly.

“Yes?” she responded.

He fidgeted a little and looked around as if checking no-one else was in earshot. “That man. The one who came over when we were talking.”

“Dar’Khan. What about him?”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Is he your ... your...” he took another bite of apple.

Unless she was seriously mistaken, Tiene suspected that he was trying to deduce if she and Dar’Khan were courting. Camnath looked embarrassed and, it seemed, rather unsure how to broach the subject. Tiene was not going to make a fool of herself however, and just blurt things out. She would make sure that was what he was enquiring about. “My what?” she coaxed, quietly.

Camnath met her eyes briefly then stared at the space on the floor between them. “Your suitor.”

Tiene smiled inwardly. “No, he is not. Nor will he be,” she added for good measure.

Camnath looked up, this time maintaining eye contact. “Good! I mean...okay.” He managed a nervous smile.

Inexperienced though she was, she surmised that Camnath was in the same boat. Innocent. Pure still, though it would be unusual for a boy his age, or so she had been led to believe. Perhaps she should try make him feel a little more comfortable. That in turn might make the butterflies in her stomach quieten too. “Yesterday, you asked about my stealthing and training on it. Was there something else you needed to know?”

“Well” he inched a little closer, ” ... I wondered if you would perhaps consider ...”

“Tiene!” A voice from the street called out to her.

She spun, looking around the pillar where she sat. Duthan and Lor’themar were standing outside waving at her. She jumped up utterly delighted to see them and took a step towards them. She halted suddenly, and as an afterthought turned back to look at Camnath. His face wore the same expression it had the day before when Dar’Khan had interrupted them. Dark and disgruntled. “It’s my brother, Duthan,” she explained. “Come and meet him. He has just returned from Ghostlands. They were fighting the trolls.”

The young man’s face brightened. He smiled and stood up to walk with her.

As she reached the two Rangers she ran into Duthan’s arms. He swirled her round, then put her down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Baby sister,” he smiled. “In training, no less.” His eyes looked over the ebony-haired elf who accompanied her while she hugged Lor’themar welcome.

“Yes,” she replied to Duthan, catching his glance towards Camnath. “And this is a fellow student, Camnath,” she said, inviting the young elf closer. ” Camnath, this is Duthan, my brother, and Lor’themar, my, hmm,  _adopted_  brother, you could say.”

They both said hello to him and shook hands. Without Tiene noticing, a glance passed between the Rangers, with a small grin on Lor’themar’s face.

“So,” Duthan asked Camnath, hooking his thumbs on his belt. “You two been training together long?”

“A few weeks,” Camnath replied.

“I see.” Duthan said, the corners of his mouth betraying a small smirk. “And how is Tiene coming along?”

“She is very good,” the young elf replied.

“Uh-huh.”

Tiene cottoned on to her brother’s line of questioning and stepped in, for fear of him affronting Camnath. “I’m right here, Duthan, in case you have somehow went blind.”

Lor’themar stifled a laugh. “Come on Duthan. Leave them be. They have training to attend.”

The fair haired Ranger nodded, smiling. He would save his teasing of his little sister back home. “Ok, you two run along now. Nice to meet you Camnath.”

“Likewise,” Camnath replied, and nodded a farewell to both the Rangers. He waited until Tiene led the way back to the guild hall, then he followed behind her.

“And I will talk with  _you,_  back home, Tiene,” Duthan called after her.

She spun round and scowled at him, before breaking into a smile. She was too happy to see her brother’s safe return to remain annoyed at his teasing. The two students disappeared indoors.

“Hmm,” Duthan turned to Lor’themar. “So which one, then? Dar’Khan or Camnath?”

Lor’themar burst out laughing. “No competition. Most definitely Camnath,” he replied.

They started towards the Rangers lodge, laughing as they went.

Back in the Students of Shadow guild hall, Tiene and Camnath were about to continue with their training on the dummies when Zelanis approached them. They stood expectantly in front of the trainer, awaiting their next scenario.

“It’s about time you two had a duel,” he said, watching their faces. They were obviously pleased. “I thought now would be a good time to start as I have heard you will be leaving us soon Tiene, to study with the Crimson Blade.”

Tiene was excited. “Yes, we received news yesterday.”

Camnath’s face fell, but he forced a smile when he saw Tiene looking at him questioningly. “Congratulations,” he said. His voice did not convey the sentiment.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Okay, you two go through and get prepared, I will be through shortly.”

The combat ring was in a concealed room off to the right where Zelanis’ training area was, and the two students passed through the doorway not entirely sure of what to expect. The room was lit only by a centre light which was dimmed, enabling shadows for trainees learning to enhance their stealth abilities. Yet more training dummies were lined on both the left and right of the central ring looking menacing in the dim light. The students’ footfalls echoed, another test for a rogue’s light-footedness no doubt, Tiene thought.

As she made her way to the right, so Camnath moved to the left. She sighed, wondering if he resented her training with the Crimson Blade. She thought she would try lighten his mood. She used her stealth ability and snuck up behind him. “Are you annoyed about my news?” she asked.

Camnath jumped. He had not heard her approach and definitely had not seen her. She materialised in front of him. He lowered his gaze for a moment then met her eyes again. “It does not displease me, no. I am truly happy for you, it is a great honour to train with the Blade. It’s just...”

“Yes?” she coaxed him to continue.

“I feel I was just getting to know you,” Tiene’s butterflies suddenly swarmed. “... and you were going to help with the stealth training, but now you will be leaving for Lordaeron.”

The butterflies dropped to the ground, in a massive unmoving clump. His attention had made her feel quite nice, albeit briefly. She had hoped it was more than her ability he had liked about her. “Well. I have a month yet Camnath. Apart from showing everyone the stealth trick here, would you also like me to show you on your own?”

He laughed a little and his eyes lit up. “That’s what I have been trying to ask you, but each time I’ve tried, people keep interrupting.”

“Oh!” she managed a laugh also, but it was to mask her disappointment that it was indeed the sum total of what he had been trying to ask. “Sure. Just ... tell me when you want to start then.” She turned and made her way back to the other side of the room.

Zelanis then entered the room and called them to join him in the centre. He had something behind his back. “Right then, Camnath and Tiene. You both have been consistent in your scores, making good progress, so I thought you should try your skills with these.” He then revealed what was behind his back. Foam daggers. He watched the look of stunned disbelief spread across their faces.

Tiene looked up at their trainer, her eyes also conveyed annoyance. “Are we meant to  _tickle_  each other to death?” she said holding up the foam toy.

Zelanis tried his best to keep a straight face. “You are  _not_  here to kill each other Tiene, by  _any_  means. This is only to test the skills you have learned so far, against a live moving target. To gauge how you fare in this exercise you have to dab the tip of the daggers in these.” He moved off to the side of the room then returned quickly to the centre carrying two pots of paint, one red, one blue. He handed the red to Tiene and blue to Camnath. He instructed them to place the pots at the edges of the ring and make ready for combat. He smirked as he saw Tiene shaking her head. Camnath on the other hand looked ready to take on the world. The boy was seriously competitive.

“Now, Tiene, I know you can stealth, but Camnath hasn’t learned that yet, so I would ask you to refrain from using that ability as he will be at a disadvantage.”

Tiene looked at her opponent. She could tell he was taking this seriously and would go all out to win. She did not doubt she could beat him, but she also thought of an argument to put to her trainer. “If we were in real combat however, we would not show such consideration to an enemy though, would we?”

Zelanis raised an eyebrow. The girl had a valid point. “True. But for today’s exercise, my decision stands. And Camnath is  _not_ your enemy, so go easy -  _both_ of you.” Zelanis turned away abruptly, as he tried to stop himself from dissolving into laughter at the very obvious disgust in Tiene’s face. She was a fiesty student, but all the trainers loved her.

She huffed. “Fair enough.”

“Okay then. Remember what you have learned, the best areas to achieve the maximum bleed. I will give you a scenario and you must strike the best area for the desired effect. Now, coat your daggers and start the duel on the count of three.” He watched as his students went to their tins of paint. “Don’t worry, it washes off easily.” They moved to the centre of the ring, their daggers dripping in red and blue paint.

“Are you ready?” They both nodded. “Your opponent must be slowed, where is one of the best places to strike? Three... two...one, go.”

Camnath instantly rolled forward to mark Tiene, but she flipped over him and on the way past, she quickly scored his Achilles heel, calling out her target area. Camnath had missed his target so spun round and just managed to mark her hamstring before she shifted out of reach. He too called out his point of impact. His face showed slight annoyance at having missed first time however.

Zelanis inspected their marks. “Well done both of you. That was a good move by the way Tiene.” He handed them both a damp cloth so they could wipe off the paint.

“Right, ready?” their trainer called again. “You must strike your opponent so they lose consciousness first. Three...two...one, go.”

The students crouched. Camnath was not prepared to miss again so waited for Tiene to move. She did, but only enough to bluff him into moving forward. As he did, she ducked under his arm, brought her dagger up and drew a red mark across his throat. In the same instance, Camnath shadow stepped and he was in front of her before she could blink, painting her throat blue. “Jugular,” they called together. Their eyes met and a mutual exchange of respect passed between them.

“Excellent!” Zelanis congratulated both.

They made use of their cloths once more. Camneth then dabbed an area on Tiene’s throat she had missed altogether. She felt her face flush. He smiled.

“You need to create massive blood loss and a quick death. Three...two...one, go.”

Camnath was quick to move, lashing out with his right hand for her solar plexus area shouting “Aorta” while Tiene marked him in the right armpit and called “Brachial.”

Zelanis applauded both, but commended Camnath as his choice was the better of the two. The cloths were not as effective on the fabric of their clothes, but they dulled the colours at least.

“Okay, one more.” Zelanis allowed his students to replenish their daggers with paint before he gave out the final test. “Right. Instant death required, and a word of warning, even with foam daggers, the areas you may go for can still receive injury. Three...two...one, go.”

Once more Camnath used his shadow step to get behind Tiene. He put his arm around the front of her shoulders, about to mark her temple, but she grabbed his arm, and dislodging his balance by kicking out his right foot, she heaved him overhead where she grabbed his ponytail and scored the back of his neck. “Brain stem,” she called. Her fellow student spun round, utter shock on his face. The corners of her mouth twitched and she pointed to her temple for him to mark her. He did, although much slower than he would have done otherwise. “Temple,” he said almost in a whisper.

Their trainer came to stand next to them with freshly dampened cloths. Tiene motioned for Camnath to turn round. He did as she bade, and she lifted his ponytail and cleaned the paint from his neck. “Sorry. It’s in your hair as well.” She released his ponytail and he turned back to face her, then gently wiped away his blue mark on her temple.

“I’m afraid I have done the same, Tiene,” he smiled softly.

Zelanis stood silently for a moment while they finished cleaning away the paint.

“Well,” he said, amazed by both students’ prowess but noticeably impressed by Tiene’s last manoeuvre. “You are both exceptionally talented, and have come a long way in a relatively short span of time. Well done both of you. And Tiene, that was one slick move.”

“Thank you,” she said.

The lessons were over for the day and Camnath asked if he could walk Tiene home. She agreed. For part of the way, they walked in silence. Then Camnath eased the awkwardness and congratulated her. “I admit, I thought I would win hands down,” he said, a little smirk playing on his mouth.

“I know you did,” she replied. They looked at each other and laughed quietly. “We are equal though.”

“Yes. We are. Apart from stealth.”

“And your shadow step technique is impressive. Perhaps you could help me refine it when I show you the stealth with magic.” She halted. They had reached her home.

“I’d like that,” he smiled. He looked towards the house. Curtains twitched. He turned back to Tiene. “I guess this is home then.”

“Yes. Thank you for walking me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

A moment of awkwardness surrounded them again. Tiene bounced on her toes and Camnath shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, good day, Tiene.” He took a step back.

“Good day, Camnath. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Tomorrow.” And then he was walking away.

Inside, Inaris, Duthan and Lor’themar were standing at the side of the window watching, laughing between themselves.

“Go on, turn round and look at her,” Inaris was willing the ebony haired elf. He had aired a bet with Duthan.

“I don’t think he will,” Duthan said. “He seems quite shy.”

“Yes he will,” Lor’themar and Inaris said simultaneously.

“Whose side are you on?” Duthan asked his friend.

“Tiene’s,” Lor’themar answered with a smile.

They waited. The young elf was almost at the steps which led back down into Farstriders’ Square. The brothers quickly checked where Tiene was. She stood just under the canopy at the front door, waiting, wondering. They glanced back at the steps.

Camnath turned and waved.

“There you go! Told you!” Inaris said happily, clapping his hands in delight. “You owe me gold, brother. Pay up.”

Duthan grudgingly handed over the money.

Oblivious to her observers, Tiene waved back at Camnath, her butterflies swarming by the millions once again.

 

 

 

 


	10. Of Light And Shadow

Tiene entered the house with a soft smile on her lips and went through to the kitchen. She glanced out the window that faced the direction Camnath had disappeared, and sighed. Utterly oblivious to her audience of three grinning males who were to her left in the dining area, she started to hum as she then poured herself a cup of melon juice.

“That’s  _my_  tune, and you hate it,” Inaris’ voice startled her causing her to spill a small amount of juice on the table. Her spectators laughed lightly among themselves as her face flushed bright red. She picked up a cloth and dabbed up the spilled liquid. Still embarrassed, she growled back at her brother,” I don’t hate it, I just get fed up of hearing you whistle it everywhere you go.”

Inaris walked towards her, with an occasional glance back at the others, who still had humour written on their faces. “Now then, little sister,” Inaris said. “Who was that young man?”

Tiene threw the cloth into the sink and swiped her cup up, almost spilling it again. “You were  _watching_  me?” she accused.

“Well we could hardly miss you both, you came to the front of the house after all.” Inaris explained with hands held up in an attempt to placate her.

She seemed to accept his explanation. Looking past his shoulder, she saw Duthan and Lor’themar trying to look as if they were innocent bystanders. “You will know who he is anyway,” Tiene said to Inaris, her mouth betraying a little smile at the corners. “They met him earlier.” She nodded in the direction of the other two.

Ianris feigned surprise. “Duthan! Is this true?”

“Oh, stop it!” Tiene said. “I know fine they would have told you, and no doubt the three of you  _were_  spying on me.”

Inaris laughed and put his arm round her shoulders, steering her into the dining area. “Tell me all about him,” he said.

“Nothing to tell,” she said, her cheeks flushing a little again.

Duthan spoke up. “He seemed a nice enough young man. Smitten with  _you_  anyway, Tiene.”

She blushed deeper. “No, I think not. I stealthed yesterday when training. I thought everyone would know how to do it, but apparently not. So, Camnath just wants me to teach him , the way you showed me, Inaris. But, he didn’t speak to me before that.”

Duthan raised an eyebrow. “I think, Tiene, it probably gave him the courage to talk to you.”

She smiled shyly and dropped her gaze. The brothers, Lor’themar included, decided to desist from teasing her on the subject. This was one of the instances it would be unfair to torment her.

“As long as he is nice to you, that’s all we are bothered about,” Inaris said, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. He leaned closer to her ear. “Now, haven’t you got dinner to prepare?”

She gasped. She had forgotten. “Oh yes!” she ducked under his arm and made her way back into the kitchen where she busied herself away preparing their meal.

Conversation at dinner had been mainly about the Rangers’ fight against the Amani trolls over the past few weeks. They had managed to keep them from advancing towards Tranquillien, at best keeping them within their own boundaries of Zul’aman. There were still pockets of trolls in the surrounding countryside but their attacks had been stemmed. It would never be without constant intervention, however, that the peace would remain. Sylvanas had been disappointed that her Rangers’ efforts did not result in as final an outcome as she had wished, but nonetheless, they had prevented further attacks from occurring at least.

The Ranger General had decided to send some of the Ranger squads home as they were able to keep the trolls at bay with fewer numbers. They would however, be recalled after a week so those left behind could then go home to their families too.

It turned out even Sylvanas’ family were going through some major events also. Her sister Vereesa, also a Ranger, had announced her betrothal to a human mage of the Kirin Tor by the name of Rhonin, and they were soon to be married.

Vereesa had been assigned a few months ago to escort the mage on a mission to rescue the Dragon Queen, Alexstrasza from a former member of the Dragonmaw Clan, orc warlock Nekros Skullcrusher. The orc had imprisoned the Dragon Queen using the Demon Soul, an ancient artifact from the time of the War of the Ancients. It was a powerful talisman created by the Dragon Aspect, Neltharion, to defeat the Burning Legion. Rhonin, had to destroy the Demon Soul, and in doing so released Alexstrasza, this in effect turned the tables on the orcs during the war and brought it to an end shortly after. This mission, also had an unforeseen result. Vereesa and Rhonin had fallen in love.

On hearing the story, Tiene smiled. Normally such stories were dismissed by her, as her mind would be out in the woods chasing lynx or more recently, going over some of her studies. Today however, it made her smile. It did not go unnoticed. Inaris saw it, but remained quiet.

A loud knock came to the door. Everyone looked at each other in silent surprise. No-one was expected. Inaris volunteered to answer it while the others continued with their meal.

A loud scuffle followed by the sound of something breaking, came from the front door. Instantly the family was up and round to see what happened. Inaris was on the floor. A small side table lay broken beside him. His hand was clasped over his nose and mouth, blood trickling between his fingers. Tiene gasped and ran to aid her brother.

An enormous man stood in the doorframe glaring down at the warlock. “You stay away from my wife, Firefury or so help me, I will knock you into Kalimdor.”

Yathas was trying to placate the man, while glaring down at his errant son, but the man would not listen to him. Duthan and Lor’themar fared no better, with the man threatening to add them to his list if they interfered anymore. He continued to glare at Inaris, fists clenched. Tiene feared that her brother would retaliate with magic, and she knew that could have a high probability of making matters worse.

But Tiene recognised the man. He was a weaponsmith and prone to dalliances of his own, according to gossip. Tiene had never condoned her brother’s behaviour when it came to the ladies, but neither did she tolerate hypocrisy. And no matter what,  _no-one_  hit her brothers. She took a deep breath and suddenly stood up, facing the man with all the threat her slender frame could muster. “How dare you come to our home and do this,” she pointed at Inaris.

“Tiene! Stay out of this,” her father scolded.

She pretended not to hear and proceeded with her verbal assault, stepping closer to the angry man.

“Well little girl, what are  _you_  going to do about it?” His face betrayed a look of mockery at the slip of a girl pointing an accusatory finger at him. There was another look behind his eyes too. One which Tiene did not like in the slightest and made her flesh crawl.

“Perhaps if you paid more attention to your  _wife_  than your customers’  _young daughters_ , she wouldn’t be tempted to fall into the arms of someone else!”

She heard her brothers and father gasp behind her, and the look on the weaponsmith’s face was disbelief. And utter humiliation.

“Yes! Us girls talk!” she bluffed, leaning towards his bulky frame. No-one really spoke  _to_  her about such things, she just heard snippets in passing.

“So, think twice before you accuse others...” she roughly scuffed Inaris’ leg with her foot and glared at him too. ” ... if it’s  _true_ , of course.” She had absolutely no doubt it was, but she just wanted to plant that little seed of doubt in the weaponsmith’s mind. She glared back at the man in the doorway. He wasn’t so threatening any more. He slowly shuffled back before turning round briskly and walking away.

Once he was out of sight, Tiene visibly relaxed. She turned to face a stunned audience. She involuntarily bit her bottom lip, the realisation dawning on her that she had just taken a huge risk in facing up to the burly beast of a weaponsmith. Still, it had the desired effect.

She knelt down to Inaris, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth apart from the fact he was still bleeding. “As for you,” she said. “Stick to the single ladies. I won’t always be around to save you.” She grinned. It felt incredibly good being able to say that to her over-protective brother.

She helped him up and took him through to the kitchen where she cleansed his bloodied face. The others followed and watched silently, still in awe of what had just happened. She kept her voice low as she spoke with her wayward brother. “I warned you, did I not?”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. “Yes, you did. But sometimes, when you want something, or someone, you just have to  _take_ them.”

She stared at her brother. He realised how that had sounded. “I did not mean she was not willing, I meant... You might understand  _one_  day, Tiene.”

“Hmm. Well, I do not wish to hear the sordid details dear brother, but I strongly advise you to be perhaps more ... careful, in future.”

He smiled. Here was his little sister giving him advice on matters of which she had yet to learn about. It was rather endearing. He dropped a quick kiss on her head. She pushed him away, with a smirk.

She finished tending his injuries then with a flourish she turned to her father, Duthan and Lor’themar. “Now, gentlemen,” she said, smiling. “I think I have deserved a reprieve from the washing up, so all of you can see to it.” Then without waiting for a response, she headed off to her room.

Yathas glanced round the young men, affording a scowl at Inaris, and shook his head. “She is more like her mother every day,” he sighed.

 

 Over the next week, Camnath walked Tiene home every day, but he was unable to join her to train on stealth until the beginning of the following week due to chores he had to carry out for his father who was a tailor and needed some deliveries done. Tiene was just happy that he wanted to walk her home regardless.

The knowing looks from Inaris and Duthan never stopped although they did not verbally tease her.

The day Camnath was able to join her for training, he walked her home as per usual. It was a little easier making conversation now, although the odd crystal silence would present itself.

Tiene suggested they go out to the woods where she learned much about movement and stealth through observation of the lynx. Camnath agreed, he had never considered studying an animal’s agility and using it as a reference for his own movements. Before heading out to the woods however, Tiene stopped at home to collect some spring water and fruit, which she thought would be good for them when taking a break.

About fifteen minutes later, they had arrived at an area which Tiene favoured for her observations. She was delighted to see her favourite lynx present. She signalled for Camnath to follow her and they watched the great cat from behind a shrub.

“See how she stalks,” Tiene whispered.

“Yes,” he replied, eyes fully focused on the feline as she drew nearer her prey.

“I have realised it is not only the fact her soft paws make her approach practically inaudible, but also she chooses very carefully which angle she attacks from. If the animal is downwind from her, it will give her presence away long before it actually sees her.”

“So what does that teach us?”

“Make sure you have a bath first in case you are unable to attack from the right direction.” Tiene laughed lightly.

Camnath laughed too. “Nice one,” he said.

She noticed how nice his smile was but quickly turned her attention back to the lynx when he glanced at her. “So, you have seen how she moves. Now you try emulate what you have seen.” She moved away from the shrub and the direction of the lynx.

“You saying I go on all fours?” he asked.

“Almost. It would not be practical to try mirror her completely by  _moving_  on all fours as our anatomy is different. But try this.” She crouched down, as low as she possibly could, and she ran while her body remained unbelievably low. Her movement was fluid, no hitch in her steps at all. Then she turned and repeating the move, arrived back to where he stood.

“How can you do that?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Just try,” she said. “Start like this,” she went into the crouch on all fours to get him as low as he could manage.

He got into position as she showed him. When he brought his hands up and tried to move his feet, he fell face first into the grass. He pushed himself up and met Tiene’s amused expression. He smiled a little awkwardly. “I think this is going to take some time,” he said.

“Don’t worry, I have been watching them for months and I have only really started to get it right recently.” She exaggerated of course, it had only taken her a few attempts, but she said what she did just so he wouldn’t feel so bad.

“We have less than a month before you leave though,” he said.

She felt a tightening in her chest. “Yes, but you will be able to perfect the moves on your own once you get the basics.”

He looked at her for a few moments, a little flicker of sadness swam in his eyes, then he nodded, before trying the move again.

This time he managed two steps before kissing the grass again. By the time half an hour had passed, he had successfully managed four steps but his face was covered in green streaks, stained from mowing the lawn too often.

**_Music: Once Upon A Time composed by Adrian von Ziegler_ **

 

Tiene suggested they have some spring water and a snack. He accepted gratefully. They drank in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze before shifting their eyes elsewhere. Tiene suddenly let a small laugh escape.

“What is it?” Camnath asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He smeared the grass stain on his chin wider. Tiene laughed again.

“I’m sorry Camnath. It’s just...” she gestured to his face.

He wiped at his face with the palm of his hand and looked horrified when his palm came away bright green. He looked up at Tiene and saw her struggling not to laugh again. The corners of his mouth twitched. “I must be a sight,” he said.

“Wait a moment,” Tiene said. She took a handkerchief from her satchel, doused it in spring water and gently dabbed his face clean. He flinched a little as she wiped his jaw. “Sorry,” she said, drawing back.

“It’s alright,” he replied, running his finger over the area that stung. “I must have grazed myself during one of the falls, that’s all. Please, continue.” He raised his face towards her.

She avoided his gaze as she cleaned him, struggling to keep a blush at bay. The more she saw him, the more he appealed to her. Trying not to stare for too long, she noted how his black hair was smooth and silken pulled up in the high knot. It revealed a handsome face with the azure eyes of the high elven race, and a full, firm mouth.

How she wished she was as pretty as the other girls though, maybe then it wouldn’t just be her abilities he was interested in. If only Duthan’s words were true. Inwardly she sighed. She was what she was and there was nothing she could do about it.

She was relieved when the cleaning of his face was complete but strangely disappointed too.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his hand briefly brushed hers as she drew away the handkerchief. She jumped a little at the contact, but not so much that he noticed.

“You’re welcome,” she replied as she folded the handkerchief.

He grimaced when he saw how green the delicate cloth was. “Sorry about that,” he said pointing to the fabric.

“It will wash,” she smiled and put it back in her satchel.

They were quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “I think perhaps we should give this particular exercise a miss for the time being.”

She smiled coyly. “Perhaps that would be best. For today anyway.”

“Can you teach me the method you use for stealth though? Or will I end up another colour?”

“No, you will remain as you are,” she giggled. “It involves an incantation, which once you have learned, you will not have to recite it aloud, but need only think it.”

“That sounds easy. And I won’t look like the meadow afterwards?” he smiled.

Tiene laughed. “No, but you should blend into it, so no-one knows you are there.”

“Ok. I’m ready.”

“Repeat after me then..Onas,”

“Onas.”

“Thuash,” she smiled.

“Thuash.” He smiled back.

“D’aresh.”

“D’aresh.”

“Alsu o’doreu.”

“Alsu... what?”

She repeated it.

He tried again. “Alsu o’doreu.”

“Good. Now put it together. Onas thuash d’aresh, alsu o’doreu.” She vanished.

He spun around trying to locate her. She tugged his ponytail. “Hey!” he laughed. “Not fair.”

“Repeat it then,” she said.

He turned in the direction of her voice. “I – I can’t remember it!” he said, laughing lightly.

So she repeated it word for word with him until finally he managed it on his own. He was finally stealthed and the look of surprise on his face was priceless.

He spun slowly, looking at everything around him, including Tiene who he now saw even though he couldn’t locate her before. The world was in two tone and shimmered in front of him. He held up his hands, mesmerised as the skin seemed to ripple before his eyes. “It’s like ... like being under water!” he said, utterly amazed. He had not expected this at all.

“Yes, but it gets better. The haze will lessen the more you practice, although it won’t disappear altogether.”

“This is amazing!” he looked up at her, his eyes bright and his smile wide.

Her heart skipped a beat and those pesky butterflies were beating their wings in her stomach again. He moved over to where she stood. “Thank you, Tiene,” he said.

Her face flushed at his closeness. She stammered a little. “You will need to know how to come out of stealth too,” she found it difficult to look at him, her heart was hammering.

He placed a hand on her forearm. The butterflies suddenly swarmed and flew round in their hundreds. “It’s only one word, so easier to remember ...” Before she could utter it he lightly kissed her lips.

“Tiene ...”

“Sha’al,” she said quickly, instantly materialising back in the normal spectrum.

After a moment, she felt him release her arm and heard him quietly say  _sha’al_. He appeared a few feet from her. He stood for a few moments, lost for words, then he picked up her satchel. He glanced quickly at her, then turned in the direction of the city and with a sigh, said, “Guess I better walk you home now.”

She didn’t know how to react. On one hand she was overjoyed he had kissed her, yet on the other she had been completely taken by surprise and at a loss of how to behave. All she could do was nod and follow him as he headed towards the city gates. Their journey back to her house was in total silence. She chanced the odd glance at him but he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Perhaps he had simply got carried away by being able to stealth and didn’t realise what he was doing.  _That was probably it_ , she deduced.

They reached her door. He took a deep breath and quickly glanced at her. He looked so embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Tiene. It won’t happen again.” He handed her the satchel.

“Oh,” she said almost in a whisper. She took the bag from him. She swallowed, trying to hide her disappointment. “It’s alright Camnath. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled half-heartedly and turned to walk away. She also turned but this time she didn’t wait to see if he would turn to wave at her. She reckoned he was just glad to get away.

As she closed the door, Camnath looked back. He fumed at himself for being so stupid. He’d just blown any chance he’d had of being something other than a sparring partner to her. She had been so quick to come out of stealth once he’d kissed her, he knew then he had made a move too soon. It had taken him weeks to build up courage to so much as speak to her, and now...his shoulders slumped as he made his way home.

Tiene threw her satchel onto her bed and flopped down beside it then sat with her chin resting on her hands. She really didn’t know whether he meant to kiss her or not or whether her reaction ruined things. She had three weeks left before she went away to join the Crimson Blade. Three weeks of seeing Camnath at the Students of Shadow and goodness knows if he would want to still have the one to one training. She could see this being really awkward. Unless...

She decided to take a leaf out of her over-sexed brother’s book. He had said  _sometimes, when you want something, or someone, you just have to take them._ She was not about to have a miserable three weeks. She was going to find out one way or the other. Hopefully, it would work in her favour and Camnath would feel the same. Alternatively, if he really hadn’t meant anything other than an over-enthusiastic thank you, then she could at least move on without wondering any more.

 _Look out Camnath_! she smirked.

 

 

* Onas thuash d’aresh, alsu o’doreu – Of light and shadow, see me not

* Sha’al – Reveal


	11. Womanly Wiles

 

* * *

 

Yathas was already awake and up, ready for the day ahead. He was always an early riser. Normally, mornings were spent negotiating prices for the hides and furs brought in from traders. He had a reputation as a fair dealer, and his shop always attracted a lot of business.

Once trading was complete, his tanners would get to work on the hides, putting them through a thorough and timely process before the skins could be turned into saleable goods. His leather workers made items from bags to hats, armour to saddles, according to designs created by Yathas himself. His creations were widely sought throughout Quel’thalas and he had, in past months, even secured trade further south in Hinterlands and Alterac Valley. The war had certainly helped Yathas to broaden his customer base, and more business was always welcome in his eyes.

This particular morning however, he wanted Tiene to accompany him to his premises. He had been working on some armour for her, and a fitting was necessary before it was finished with the piping. His shop was located in The Bazaar and it would take them a good fifteen minutes walk, especially as he had some banking to do en route. Tiene was looking forward to her new armour. Her father was an exceptionally gifted man in the trade. So, she waited for her father to collect his various patterns and bills before they left for his work.

Meanwhile, Inaris chirruped a good morning as he readied himself for his studies in The Sanctum. Still sporting the black eye, although it had faded to a yellow-blueish colour now, awarded him by the aggrieved weaponsmith the week before, he was still his usual charming self.

Tiene could not help but smile at her brother’s errant ways, even though she knew he was often stepping where he should not. Then oddly enough, there were places certain individuals wished he  _would_  step, yet he had not. Cel, for example, Tiene’s instructor. As it happened, neither Nerisen nor Inaris had pursued the poor woman. She most definitely preferred Inaris. The instructor’s comments about how fortunate Tiene was to have such a  _wonderful, charming, charismatic, witty_ , brother, were becoming a daily thing. She was bound to run out of adjectives for him one day, surely. It was becoming embarrassing really. She could have sworn the woman had actually sighed when she noticed Inaris passing one day on his way to the Sanctum, then again, perhaps she was just imagining it. But, there was no doubt, he did captivate the ladies.

 _Both_  brothers did actually, although Duthan did not go out of his way to chat up the ladies like Inaris did. He, it seemed, preferred women who were fighters, be it archers, warriors, hunters even paladins, and apart from those hunters within the Rangers, the others to his taste were not always readily available. Tiene only knew this as she had often overheard her brothers talking on the occasional nights they decided to have drinking sessions in the garden below her window. What else was she meant to do, but listen in. Granted, it was not all about their rather active love lives, but there was enough for her to pick up snippets. She did giggle though when she heard some of the things the two of them came out with. Going by the context of their conversation, she deduced their general meaning.

Now and again they would erupt into raucous laughter, quickly followed by them both shushing and hushing, as they tried to contain their laughter and not wake Tiene up. Little did they know their little sister was crouched by her window listening avidly. The more they shushed and hushed however, the louder they usually became, until father had to go out and tell them to be quiet and call it a night. They were such naughty boys, and yet, apart from a burly weaponsmith, everybody liked them. And the ladies seemed to  _love_  them.

On a slightly sour note, it sucked that she had to learn of such things by eavesdropping on her brothers. She would have loved to have had a close friend that she could sit with, chat and giggle about things. The girls around the Square were inclined to be a bit aloof and often looked down their noses at Tiene. She didn’t know why really, she always smiled and said hello, but her salutations more often than not, went unanswered. Perhaps it was because they thought she was too much of a tomboy, slinking off into the woods watching the lynx’ massacring the little fluffy rabbits and squirrels for dinner. Those girls would have fainted at such sights, Tiene thought with a smirk. She supposed it also had something to do with the fact she did not partake of their hobbies either, sewing, cooking (although that was improving by her own effort), or getting all preened and pampered just to walk down the street for five minutes because they knew a particular boy they liked might be in the vicinity.

Having said that, she did wish she was prettier, especially since meeting Camnath. Perhaps she  _should_  take more of an interest in looking nice, or at least as nice as she could, with her plain looks and skinny frame. Now that she had introduced him to her hobby of practising stealth and stalking about like the lynx, maybe he too thought she was more of a tomboy. But, he  _had_  kissed her! So...?

Oh, such confusion and trauma came with being on the cusp between girl and womanhood. Her body had went through the strife of it well enough - once she got over the shock, that was. She thought she was dying the first time she bled. Her father had found her curled up in the corner of the garden in tears. She had blurted out that she was not long for this world, and her father just smiled! That made her even more distraught. Then, of course, he explained things, and her fear turned to utter horror and profound embarrassment. Still, all things considered the transition on that front went relatively smoothly, but her mind and emotions were seriously struggling.

“You’re deep in thought there, sis,” Inaris said, munching on an apple as he walked over to her.

“Hmm?” she was startled from her reverie. “Oh, just...thinking.”

“About?”

Her face flushed.

“Ahh,” he said, winking at her, which only made her blush more. “Young whatshisname, eh?”

“Camnath,” she said quietly.

Inaris continued munching as he watched his sister’s face blush even more. “If you get any redder, Tiene, you will explode. Now come, tell me what’s on your mind.” He ushered her through to the living area, sat down on the small couch and patted the seat beside him, inviting her to sit. Hesitantly, she did. There was an awkward silence.

“Come on now, tell me what’s bothering you,” he coaxed.

“Well,” she started quietly. “It’s just ... I wish I was pretty.”

Inaris stopped mid bite of his apple and gaped at her. “What do you mean you wish you were pretty! You are! You’re beautiful!” He hugged her with his free arm and continued munching his apple.

“You’re only saying that because I’m your sister.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head and his forefinger, keeping careful hold of his apple. “Going by the rules, as you are my sister I should be saying you’re ugly, and teasing you rotten.”

“You  _do_  tease me!”

“Yes, but  _nicely_.” He grinned at her. His face became serious however when he realised she genuinely believed she was unattractive. He sat back from her a little. “Tiene, honestly, you are  _very_  pretty, why on earth would you think otherwise?”

“All the girls ignore me and look down at me. I’m not rude to them, ever, they just don’t like me, and they are all  _so_  pretty.”

“Hang on, I thought this was about Camnath,” he looked confused.

“It is actually, I’m just comparing myself with the girls and thinking perhaps he thinks the same as they do. That I’m – well, not very girlie.”

“Has he said something to upset you? Or  _done_  something?” His face was very serious now.

She hung her head, the blush creeping back over her cheeks. “He kissed me.”

Inaris was quiet for a few moments. Then he laughed lightly. “And so, you think that  _he_  thinks you’re  _not_  pretty and girlie, for all he kissed you?”

“I think he just did it as a thank you for teaching him to stealth.”

Her brother sighed. “Did he kiss you here,” Inaris touched her cheek. “Or here,” he touched her lips.

“Here,” she replied pointing to her mouth.

Her brother leaned in closely. “Then it was not intended as a thank you. The boy likes you Tiene. Because  _you are pretty_.”

“But he apologised and said it wouldn’t happen again,” she said sourly.

“What did you do, when he kissed you?” Inaris was a bit puzzled looking.

“I came out of stealth, I panicked.”

Again, Inaris smiled. “That’s why he apologised then. He thought you objected to him kissing you.”

“But I didn’t!”

” _You_  know that, now  _I_  know that, but  _he_  doesn’t.” Inaris took the last bite of his apple, then with a quick glance behind, to check their father wasn’t near, threw the core out the open window. “So, you have to correct that, Tiene.”

“Well, I was thinking about what you said, about when you want someone you take them...”

“Whoa, little sister. One step at a time. It will be a while yet I reckon before you reach that stage!”

She looked deflated. “However,” he continued, a plan forming in his mind. “Let’s first of all, boost your confidence a little, not that you should need to go this route, but...” he shrugged, “... then we will discuss tactics. I have a friend who can work a little magic on you...”

She looked up at him, hopeful. He read her thoughts. “No, no, not my kind of warlocky stuff. Lady things. Your hair, your eyes, your lips, you know what I mean.”

Tiene’s lips formed a silent  _Oh_ , but smiled at the idea. “Come with me little sis...” he said getting up, offering his hand to help her rise.

Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t, father wants me to go with him to try on the armour set he is making for me.”

“Ah. Well then, after that I will take you to meet my friend. But, erm... don’t let on about what we are doing.” He tapped his nose with his finger and winked.

“Don’t you have to go to the Sanctum though? And I have training this morning too.”

“Oh it won’t take long. You are such a beautiful canvas to work with already Tiene, she will only need a slight flick of a brush to highlight your best features. I will accompany you and father, so afterwards we can sneak off.”

Tiene smiled. Having a brother with such amazing friends wasn’t that bad at all.

“Are you ready then, Tiene?” her father’s voice came, perfectly timed.

“Yes father,” she replied.

Yathas came into where the two of them sat. “I thought you would be gone already, Inaris,” He said on seeing his youngest son.

“I have decided to come see Tiene’s outfit then I will walk her back to her training.”

Yathas nodded, thinking it was considerate of Inaris to look out for his sister. Especially since she had so boldly stood up for him against that agitated husband, a mere week ago. Although Yathas was more than fully aware that his sons, particularly his youngest, were extremely fond of the ladies, he did not approve of their dalliances resulting in bad blood visiting their home. Admittedly, it was no surprise that it had been Inaris’ romantic encounters that had ended with violence. Yet, it was the mere slip of his sister who was the one to defend him, and very effectively at that. He wondered what Lina would have made of all this.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Tiene bounced on her toes in delight at the exquisite armour her father had crafted for her. It was expertly tailored, fitting her shape perfectly, enabling ample movement with no restrictions whatsoever. Made from the hides of Shadowhorn stags which hailed from Ashenvale in Kalimdor, it was of the highest quality leather of the day.

Having travelled from the faraway continent, the hides had been cured in Kalimdor, to prevent the infestation from bacteria that would ruin the quality. Once Yathas had procured the hides, they were then unhaired, degreased, desalted and soaked in water. Later, they were treated further to ensure any remaining hair and soluble proteins were removed. This in turn enabled the hide to be brought into a proper condition that would allow superior tanning. It was, all in all a lengthy process before the hide arrived at the required state to start working with it and designing garments or accessories.

The end result for Tiene, was a rich, deep burgundy, supple leather. Yathas had manufactured an entire ensemble, including bracers, pauldrons and boots. The piping was all that remained to be done and it would be in gold, adding a bright contrast. Yathas was so proud of his little girl, he had spent many hours working on this personally for her. He knew she would carry on in her mother’s footsteps and believed with all his heart she would transcend the skills he and his wife had once possessed.

She hugged her father and kissed his cheek. What would life be without such a generous, loving man in her life? He had spent long, long hours crafting the finest armour she had ever seen, all for her. He promised to bring it home when it was completed.Once changed, she bid Yathas farewell and left his business premises with her brother.

It was early still, and the city was still relatively quiet. Inaris led her back to the Walk of Elders and in through the pillars of a building she had never been in before. There he led her down a spiral staircase into an opulent room filled with luxurious furnishings and beautiful drapes.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

Inaris smiled. “It is a place where the women are exceptionally beautiful and specialise in ...making men happy.”

Tiene gasped. She had heard him and Duthan talk of such a place during some of their wine evenings. “You have brought me to a brothel?” she whispered.

“How do you know that word?” he was stunned.

“You and Duthan, during your wine nights.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Ah,” he said. “Well, anyway, I have a friend in here...”

“Is she one of your ladies?” Tiene asked quite innocently. She had got the gist of such an establishment but didn’t know the full extent of its practices.

“No, just a friend,” Inaris answered honestly.

“Inaris! Darling!” A velvety voice came from their far right.

Tiene watched, transfixed as the most stunning woman she had ever seen emerged from between the silken folds of the midnight blue drapes. She had fiery red hair piled up in a high bun with a long ponytail protruding from its centre and cascading down to the middle of her thighs. Her face was like porcelain, the most exquisite cheekbones and large bright eyes. Her mouth was full and painted a glossy deep red. She wore a gown made entirely of purple silk, like that of a spiderweb, delicate, fragile. See-through!

“Inaris,” the woman purred. “You know we can satisfy your appetite, sweetheart, there is no need to bring your own.”

Tiene glanced at her brother. Was he blushing?

“No Aledine, you misunderstand. I have a matter of a delicate nature to discuss.”

The woman approached them and looked Tiene over. “Then come through to my chamber.”

The woman turned and led the way back through the silken drapes as Inaris followed, his arm gently resting on Tiene’s shoulders. The room they were led into was dimly lit, yet as sumptuously furnished as the foyer. The woman indicated for them to sit with a delicate gesture of her beautifully manicured hand. She turned in a quick, almost regal flourish and rested against the large desk in the centre of the room.

“So, darling Inaris. How can I help.” Her voice was smooth and hypnotic.

“This is Tiene, my sister. She is under the impression that she is...” he looked at his sister. He did not want to use words that she might find hurtful. “She lacks confidence in how she looks.” He finally offered.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Really?” she said. She pushed herself up from the edge of the desk and in two elegant strides, stood in front of Tiene. She lifted Tiene’s chin with her extraordinarily long fingers and turned her face from left to right. “You are a natural beauty, child. Why do you think otherwise?”

Tiene did not want to repeat the whole story again. So she simply said, “There is a boy...”

“Ah!” Aledine smiled. “Say no more, child.”

“Forgive me, Aledine, but I am not a child,” Tiene braved.

“Tiene!” Inaris chided and looked apologetically at the madame.

Aledine, however, was not in the slightest bit offended. “No Inaris, she is right. I did not mean to patronise you, Tiene. I apologise.”

Tiene smiled. She decided she liked this woman.

“So tell me, what do you want to do with your life Tiene?” Aledine asked, moving away to the back of the room when she lit a couple of braziers which light uncovered another table with an enormous mirror in front of it. Lots of tiny pots and palettes and brushes littered the top of the table.

“I am training to be a rogue. An assassin,” she replied, curious about the table and its contents.

“Beautiful  _and_  deadly then,” The madame smiled at her, then beckoned her by curving her forefinger. Tiene moved over without hesitation. Aledine pulled out the chair that was tucked under the table and Tiene sat down. The sultry woman looked at the young girl through the mirror. “You are exquisite, Tiene, do not doubt that. You must learn to see your beauty. Believe it!” She dabbed a fine brush in a pot of colourless liquid, then into a dark coloured powder. She tapped the brush to remove the excess then told Tiene to close her eyes. As the young rogue felt the fine brush sweep across her upper lids, Aledine continued in her hypnotic voice. “These pigments only emphasise what is naturally there, Tiene. True beauty comes from belief in yourself. There is absolutely no reason for you to think or feel otherwise. You are a queen. A vixen. A siren. A goddess! Open your eyes.”

Tiene did as she was told and looked in the mirror. Her eyes looked enormous yet the dark coloured pigment was subtley applied. Next, Adeline selected another brush and this time used a cherry red colour which she applied to Tiene’s lips. She pursed her own lips in the mirror to show Tiene what to do. She copied her. Next a much bigger brush was used and dipped in a rosy pink powder. “Are you still a virgin?” Aledine asked.

The question stunned Tienne. And Inaris, who coughed with embarrassment. Whether it was for himself, hearing the question or for his sister having been asked it, Tiene was unsure. She looked in the mirror. Aledine held her gaze. “Yes,” Tiene mouthed without sound.

Aledine smiled. “Not for much longer, I think.”

Tiene’s face burned, even her ears blushed all the way to the tips. It was not soothed any when Aledine leaned close and whispered, “I can advise you on that too, should you need it. Do not be ashamed of your body. It can serve you as a weapon as good as any dagger will. Under the right circumstances, of course.” She dusted Tiene’s cheeks with the brush. “Learn to use your womanly charms Tiene, it may, in the future, be what saves you. You are more powerful than you realise. You can kill a man with your thighs, in the throes of passion Tiene, did you know that?”

Tiene’s eyes were wide. She shook her head slowly, between brush strokes. Aledine smiled again. Tiene was convinced that everything this woman did and said had the power to put whoever was listening to her into a trance.

Next, Aledine took a broad hairbrush and started to groom Tiene’s hair, with long careful strokes, her hand just ghosting against the back of her neck as she lifted more of Tiene’s golden mane to brush. The sensation was very new to Tiene, she felt so relaxed that she closed her eyes and succumbed to the small shudders that ran from her neck all the way down her back.

The feel of Aledine’s hands on her shoulders made her eyes flutter open. In the mirror, Tiene stared at her own reflection. She had never seen herself this way before. She  _was_  attractive. She was  _beautiful_. The girl who had entered the room earlier seemed but a ghost of her former self. Her face was not caked in bright colours, her eyes, lips and cheeks had merely been enhanced. Her hair was like golden silk, set high on her crown and cascading over her shoulders.

“You see? You are indeed a natural beauty, Tiene. Never underestimate yourself or your abilities as a woman. The boy in question will fall at your feet, as will many others, I have no doubt. All you will have to concern yourself about, is  _who_  you choose.” She pressed some small pots of pigment in Tiene’s hand, which she secreted away in the pouch on her belt.

The lesson was over, and Tiene rose from the seat. When Inaris looked at her, his jaw fell open. “Oh my!” he said, smiling. “What have you done with my little sister?”

Aledine answered. “She is no longer your little sister Inaris, she is a beautiful, hot-bloodied, full-grown woman. She just needed someone to tell her, and make her believe in herself.”

Tiene turned and thanked Aledine. The regal looking woman lightly touched cheeks with her. “Go now and conquer all, young Tiene. And should you require any coaching in  _other_  areas, I will be happy to oblige.” Then she turned to Inaris. “And you, my darling ...” She drew a long finger down over his cheek and onto his mouth. “Please, do not be a stranger.”

Once outside, Tiene took a deep breath. She felt invigorated. Reborn almost.

“Now remember, Tiene. Not a word,” Inaris said.

“Oh, do not worry,” she said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“That’s not what I mea...”

She strolled away, head held high, leaving her brother standing with his mouth open.

Tiene could not wait to see Camnath.


	12. Wedding

* * *

 

Everyone in the Students of Shadow noticed a difference in Tiene that day. She looked poised and confident, as well as very pretty. She deduced she must look amazing because for once, Cel did not mention Inaris, instead she complimented Tiene on her hair and commented on how particularly beautiful she looked. She felt like she could rule Azeroth.

There was only one person though who Tiene wanted to notice her above all else. And notice her, he did. He could not take his eyes off her. He trained alongside her at the guild as normal but he seemed a little...distracted. She smiled to herself. Did Aledine’s little pots of paint really make  _that_  much of a difference? Or was it more to do with the fact that for once, Tiene actually felt and believed she was as pretty as any other girl? Whatever it was, she had never been so glad to have met someone like Aledine. Furthermore, perhaps she would not have anything to correct as far as the “kiss” episode was concerned. Maybe things would just go the way she hoped. As the end of their lessons approached, Camnath made sure she knew he would like to walk her home again. She pretended it was no big thing and simply said. “Okay.”

Walking through the Square, a number of eyes were cast Tiene and Camnath’s way. The little clique of girls who were always so quick to move or turn away when she neared, stared at her and her companion. Although Tiene felt good about herself today, a little nagging doubt flared as their eyes followed the young couple. She knew they were whispering about her amongst themselves, and probably not saying very complimentary things at that. Her stomach lurched when she saw they were crossing the plaza towards them. An involuntary “Oh no,” slipped from Tiene’s mouth. Camanath looked at her quizzically.

“Hello Tiene,” the girl who lead the group was called Sedrine, but that was as much as Tiene knew about her, having never been privy to their little outings or conversations. The others’ names she did not know, nor particularly wanted to, neither.

“Sedrine,” Tiene replied trying to maintain some of the poise she had aired so well all day.

“You look... _nice_ ,” Sedrine said, not really looking at Tiene, but instead casting her almond shaped eyes over the boy next to her. Her moment of insecurity however, was soon lifted as very unexpectedly, Camnath spoke up.

” _Nice_?” he said, incredulously. “Is that all your vocabulary can muster?”

Some of the other girls shifted a little awkwardly. No-one spoke to Sedrine like that.

The almond-eyed girl stared at him in disbelief. “It was a compliment,” she said a little haughtily.

“You never compliment anyone but yourself, Sedrine.”

Tiene’s eyes were wide. There was some animosity between these two. She was curious as to why. Plus, she did not expect the quiet, almost shy, Camanath to be so outspoken.

Sedrine’s entourage were trying to stifle smirks by what Tiene could make out. Not exactly what would be expected from loyal friends. Their esteemed leader however, did not notice. “No need to be so rude, Cam,” almond-eyes retorted.

 _Cam_? Tiene realised there must be history between them for this Sedrine to call him with such familiarity. She was starting to dislike the girl even more now.

” _You_  are the rudest person I know,” Camnath said. “And furthermore, you are nothing compared to Tiene, she outshines you in every way.”

Tiene blushed and her butterflies went into overdrive.  _No doubts about that kiss anymore_ , she thought!

Almond-eyes smirked. “Really? You have fallen for the  _runt_  of the Firefury clan?”

Tiene was acutely hurt by her term. Then a voice inside her head repeated words said to her earlier that day,  _Beautiful_ and _deadly_.  _You are a queen. A vixen. A siren. A goddess!_ In an instant she had vanished. Camnath’s face broke into a knowing smile.

Sedrine was startled, wary. Tiene stealthed around Sedrine, prodding her as she did so, jabbing harder with each circuit. Miss Almond-eyes squealed and bleeted, flapping her arms around trying to ward off her invisible attacker. Tiene finally pulled the decorative clasp from Sedrine’s hair and the girl’s unruly mop fell over her face, no longer giving the impression of immaculate grooming.

 _Sha’al,_  Tiene whispered and once more she was visible to all. “Are you sure I am a runt, now, Sedrine? I don’t see  _you_  being able to make anything disappear other than a pimple on your snout, and even then you are not very good at it.” She pinged her nose, at which Sedrine let out a sharp yelp.

Her little group of minions tittered on the sidelines and surprisingly applauded Tiene, albeit silently. Well, well! Seemed miss almond-eyes was not as revered as she thought she was.

Camnath lightly placed his hand on the small of Tiene’s back and steered her away. He was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. His laughter was infectious, and soon the two of them were enjoying the funny side of what had just happened.

At Tiene’s house, everyone was home. Inaris gave her a knowing look when the young couple walked in to the kitchen, while Duthan welcomed the young elf and invited him to stay for dinner. Camnath happily accepted.

Yathas, who recognised the boy as being a fellow trader’s son, also greeted him warmly. It was Yathas’ turn to make dinner so he busied himself in the kitchen allowing the youngsters to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

The Firefury house was full of good cheer, even more so when Lor’themar arrived with particular news. Vereesa and Rhonin’s wedding date had been announced and all of the Farstriders and their families were invited to attend the wedding celebrations two weeks from today. Lor’themar looked at Tiene and indicated Camnath with a quick sideways glance. She beamed.

“Would you like to come with us, Camnath. With me?” she asked the young elf.

“Are you sure?” He looked round everyone. They all nodded. “I would be honoured then, thank you.” Camnath was delighted.

Tiene’s family were extremely pleasant and welcoming. They were such a close family, not unlike his own really. He could relate to the bond he witnessed between Tiene and her brothers, he saw how protective they were of her. As was he for his own sister, Faealle. She was three years younger than him, a little shy but very bright. She was already showing promise in the use of magic. She had aspirations of being a mage. Her hero at the moment was Prince Kael’thas, and as he was studying and working as a blood mage in Dalaran, she planned on doing the same. Sweet, really.

He watched Tiene as she laughed with her brothers, telling them about the incident with Sedrine. She really was stunning. It had taken him weeks to pluck up the courage to simply speak to her at the Students of Shadow. He had liked how she didn’t try to be as the other girls, like Sedrine and her clutch, for example. Tiene was unique, earthy, and very smart. The first day he saw her, with her golden hair and impish features, he was hooked although he never gave any hint of it. Even her feistiness was alluring.

When he saw her walk in to the guild hall today...she was even more stunning than normal. Yes, she appeared to have a little lip colour and her eyes had been painted, but nothing overdone. It had, nonetheless, been difficult for him to concentrate. She had won their duels easily that day, but he didn’t really mind.

Tiene glanced round at him. She smiled and moved over to sit with him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you,” she said.

“No need to apologise,” he replied. “And I didn’t feel ignored. Your family and mine are similar in the bond we have.”

“You have brothers?”

“No,” Camnath shook his head. “But I have a younger sister. Faealle.”

Tiene smiled. “And are you as protective of Faealle as my brothers are of me?”

He looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile. “Very. That is why I do not like Sedrine.”

Inside Tiene sighed with relief. She had been thinking along the lines that he and Sedrine had a different kind of history. Camnath explained how Sedrine had ridiculed his sister on many occasions, to the point Faealle did not want to walk past the almond-eyed fiend and her band of harpies. Tiene smirked at his description of them.

“Is Faealle alright though? I mean is she able to go by them now without worrying?”

“Oh yes, she, like you, is far superior to the lot of them. With Faealle though, it took a lot to convince her so.”

She felt all warm inside with his compliments.

Yathas announced dinner was ready.

“Want to train some more after we eat?” she asked Camnath as they walked over to the table.

“Sure, I’d like that."

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

The next two weeks training went well although there was a little dark cloud hanging above Tiene and Camnath, particularly on the last week she would train at the Students of Shadow. For all she was excited at going to train with the Crimson Blade, part of her was not looking forward to it, namely because she would not see Camnath as regularly. She would come home now and again certainly, and they would meet up then, but she had grown fond of his walking her home and their little one-to-one training sessions. He had never kissed her again, something she was rather disappointed about, but there was no mistake he liked being around her. Not quite brave enough yet to initiate such little intimacies, she resigned herself to simply hoping he might want to kiss her sometime in the future. Preferably the not-too-distant future.

That very night would be good in fact. It was the wedding celebrations for Vereesa and Rhonin and Tiene was excited about it. There would be a wonderful banquet, music and dancing. It was to be a grand affair. Furthermore, it was to be held at Windrunner Spire on the west coast of Ghostlands.

Both Tiene and Camnath had finished lessons early to go home and ready themselves for the evening’s event. Camnath would arrive at Tiene’s house around mid afternoon.

Tiene wore a silk ice-blue gown, pinched at the waist. The bodice shaped, cut low at the back and adorned by a deep cowl which swept down from her shoulder straps. She wore her hair up and had twisted soft ringlets from her temples. She heard her father calling up to her, announcing Camnath had arrived.

“One moment,” she replied from her room. Using the little pots of pigment she received from Aledine, she applied the finishing touches to her look and with one more check and pose in her mirror she swept out of her room and downstairs.

As she entered the living area she was greeted by five pairs of eyes. Five pairs of very wide eyes. She was momentarily caught off guard and quickly checked her skirts had not snagged on anything or her straps had slipped. No, all was as it should be.

“You are...beautiful!” Camnath smiled, stepping forward. “You will outshine the bride.”

Yathas hid a smile. Tiene’s brothers shared a knowing look at the young elf’s reaction. “That’s more gold you owe me, brother,” Inaris whispered to Duthan.

“Not quite, Inaris,” Duthan whispered back. “That was not a request to court her.”

“It is the prelude.”

“The wager is still ...”

“Behave you two,” Lor’themar interjected with a smirk. “You will embarrass them, or worse, infuriate Tiene.”

A small ripple of laughter spread between them.

Tiene never even noticed their shenanigans she was too busy blushing and trying to keep certain little wings under control. Camnath himself was so dashing in his cream shirt, dark russet pants and long length midnight blue jacket. He stepped forward and gave Tiene a small floral clasp with beaded ribbon strands. “My mother made this for me to give to you,” he said. “She is very gifted in making adornments and accessories for many of the garments my father makes.”

Tiene was so touched by the gesture. “It’s lovely, Camnath. Thank you! Would you mind?” she said, indicating she would like him to fix it to her shoulder strap just above her bust.

“Of course,” he nodded, but then seemed a little bashful at touching her there.

Duthan nudged Inaris to stop him snickering at the poor boy. Lor’themar did the same to Duthan who was struggling to hide a chuckle himself. Yathas gave all three a warning look. They were duly chastised.

“Well then, are we all ready?” a voice from the door boomed cheerfully. Dar’Khan.

Tiene did not know he was going to the wedding. She glanced at Lor’themar who just shrugged. “The portal awaits, ” the Magister said with a flourish. They all turned and headed out the door. As Tiene passed Dar’Khan, his mouth curled up in approval. “You look exquisite, my lovely,” he whispered. She kept walking, refusing to acknowledge his taunting. Camnath glared at him from under long dark lashes. The Magister smirked as the young couple stepped through the portal.

The Windrunner home was adorned in garlands and lighting, like fireflies, hovered all the way up the slope to three majestic towers. It sat like a giant crown atop the hill overlooking the sea and the village below where most of the wedding guests assembled. People roamed throughout the small paths and gardens, chatting, laughing, eating and drinking. Music provided by a small group of elven musicians added gaiety and dancing to the already busy wedding reception.

People dressed in their finest, the entire setting was quite breath-taking. Everyone met and congratulated the bride and groom who welcomed all to their happy event. Vereesa was as striking as her sister Sylvanas, and absolutely stunning in her gown of pale lilac. Rhonin was red-haired, tall and proud. Although his face was full of laughter and good spirit on this day, there was no mistaking he was an incredibly talented mage capable of great power.

Camnath escorted Tiene around the tables where food in abundance was laid, and drinks of all kinds readily available. They danced, they sat and talked, they laughed.

Tiene saw Lor’themar dancing with a woman she had not seen before and asked Inaris who she was. It was the Lady Liadrin. She watched, smiling, as she witnessed a different Lor’themar from the one she was used to seeing. This one was smitten. Her brothers were quickly snapped up too, by young women keen to dance and have fun. She looked around for her father. He was talking to a burly man. Human he was and seemed to know her father well judging by the way they laughed and clanked goblets together.

The young couple looked to the beach and decided to go for a walk. The moon was high and the sea embraced the shore in gentle waves. Tiene looked out over the sea. Even with the hilarity and music behind them, there was a majestic serenity over the water. She had no idea why, but the thought of her people having crossed great distances to come to these lands flitted across her mind. The sounds of the waves lapping reached her ears.

Her hand felt the caress of fingers. She glanced down and Camnath held her hand. He moved in front of her. His gaze dropped, shyness overcoming him. Then he took a deep breath and looked up into her eyes again. “I’m going to miss when you go,” he said quietly.

“I’ll miss you too,” she replied.

“Maybe I could come visit you?”

“That would be nice. And I will come home every now and again.”

He inched closer, leaning a little forward until his forehead touched hers. Tiene’s butterflies were doing loop-the-loop and dive-bombing everywhere. “Tiene...” he whispered, his head tilting, lips almost touching.

“There you are!” the unmistakable voice of Dar’Khan came from their right.

A deep sigh. “I don’t really know him but I swear, I am going to kill him one day,” Camnath whispered, extremely irritated by the intrusion.

“You will have to join the queue,” Tiene said, equally agitated and bitterly disappointed the moment had been ruined. She took a deep breath and looked up. “Dar’Khan. To what do we owe the pleasure,” she said trying to mask her annoyance.

The magister smirked as he noted the expressions on the young couple’s faces. He had timed his interruption perfectly. “Your father wishes to speak with you, and I volunteered to come find you. Now wasn’t that nice of me?”

“Quite!” she replied. She turned and started heading towards the village, Camnath following close behind.

Dar’Khan grabbed his arm. “I wouldn’t get too cosy there, boy,” he warned him.

“No,  _you_  wouldn’t. Because it isn’t  _you_  she is interested in.” Camnath spat back. Shaking his arm free of the Magister’s grip , he glared at him before turning and catching up with Tiene.

The magister sneered. “You will regret your disrespectful ways, boy. All of you will one day,” he muttered under his breath.

Yathas was still talking to the man Tiene noticed earlier. They were both quite well into the wine by the looks of things, although her father had never been drunk as such in front of her, she could tell he had been enjoying himself.

Camnath had caught up with Tiene placing his hand on the small of her back. She turned to him and smiled. Reaching her father, she stopped in front of him. “Father, you wished to speak with me?”

“Ah, Tiene. Camnath. Yes, I want you to meet someone.” He gestured to the human beside him. “This is Brett Hornsby. He was, and still is a trainer with the Crimson Blade.”

The man smiled lop-sidedly, “Well, I  _was_  a trainer in your and Lina’s days, Yathas. Now I am more the guild banker, looking after the finances. Pleased to meet you Tiene, your father has been telling me all about you.”

She smiled. What was a member of the Crimson Blade doing at the wedding though, she wondered. Did he know the Windrunners? “It is a pleasure Mister...”

“Oh, please call me Brett. I always think Mister makes me sound so old.”

“Brett, it is then,” she nodded. “So are you with the bride or the groom’s party?”

“Groom! I’ve known Rhonin for more years than I care to mention. But, that is not the only reason I am here.”

“Oh?”

“Someone else wished to meet you and invited themselves along when they knew I was coming.”

She glanced at her father. Yathas cocked his eyebrows and smiled. Then he and Brett stood aside.

From behind the two men, appeared another. This one, considerably younger, had platinum hair which he wore parted to his right with three tightly woven plaits resting over the mass of hair. He was elven, but only partly. Tiene guessed he was also half human. His face bore two thin scars over his left cheek. His eyes dark brown, held some menace behind them. He was tall, athletically built, and dressed in black. He walked slowly towards her with his hands clasped behind his back. Once he halted in front of her, he bowed slowly, never releasing her gaze. Taking her hand, he lightly kissed her knuckles. “Enchanted,” he said, his voice gravelly. “I was most keen to meet the new generation Firefury.”

“Thank you,” she said, not sure what else to say. “And you are?” she ventured.

“Your soon-to-be mentor, Tiene. I am Sauren Nightflame.”

Although she did not know it at the time, she stood before the man who would change her destiny, in more ways than one.


	13. Sauren

* * *

 

So this was the commander of the Crimson Blade. He was not at all as Camnath had expected; this, Sauren Nightflame. As the company went through the motions of introductions and the normal nicities, he could not deny the man had presence. He supposed he should have, right enough, being the leader of one of, if not  _the_  best assassins’ guilds in the Eastern Kingdoms. Their reputation spanned a substantial number of years, even beyond those of Tiene’s parents’ time with the Blade. Their services were unaffordable to the more lowly population of Azeroth, but they were renowned amongst nobles and note worthies for doling out their swift methods of justice and vengeance with the utmost discretion. Kings had hired them when they required the assassins’ stealth and espionage skills to aid in their fueds with warring nobility and of course enemies - in recent times, the horde, orcs and trolls. Strange really, how a guild such as the Crimson Blade could be so famous for their specialist skills and abilities, but they were never held accountable, never brought to justice themselves.

Camnath smiled inwardly, it was indeed an odd thought that he and Tiene had chosen a career in something which, by all accounts, was really anything  _but_  honourable, yet was held in high esteem by some, and sought out by many. And it paid good. At least it paid the Crimson Blade well, going by the unimpeachable tailoring apparent in both Sauren and Brett’s attire. He imagined their headquarters would be quite exorbitant too. He had the impression however, Sauren Nightflame would be a man of impeccable taste with an enviable ability to present grandeur, without being prone to flamboyance which, so easily turned to crassness.

 _Talking of which_ , he thought, as he turned his head towards the irritatingly familiar voice of the Magister making an appearance. Granted, Dar’Khan had actually played his extravagant garb down a shade for this evening’s festivities. Still, this Sauren had style the likes of which the magister only dreamt of; the evidence of which played clearly in Dar’Khan’s eyes as he neared the party. Camnath unashamedly took pleasure in seeing him with a pinch of uncertainty on his face.

Yathas did the introductions. Dar’Khan gave a small bob of his head in greeting to Brett and Sauren, though his eyes lingered a little longer on the guild’s leader. His personna soon changed to the usual proud peacock that he was however once Sauren spoke. “Ah! Magister Dar’Kahn Drathir. Yes, we have heard of you. Is it true that you played a large part in the construction of Quel’thalas?”

“Yes, indeed it is,” the Magister replied, never one to be remotely modest. “It was a huge undertaking.”

“Hmm,” the guild master, stood with his hands clasped behind his back again. “I would imagine you have received much glory and commendation for this achievement?”

All eyes were on the Magister. They were all aware of his embittered feelings towards the Magisters on Quel’Danas and their lack of appreciation. Perhaps the evening with all its splendour and gaiety were at fault, but oddly, Tiene felt a little sympathy for Dar’Khan. He was irritating yes, and he had  _really_  infuriated her by his earlier interruption, but she had the impression everyone was laughing at his expense right now. And she knew only too well how that felt.

She would no doubt kick herself for this, but she decided to speak up in his defence. “Dar’Khan has the appreciation of us all, for we would not have such a beautiful home if it were not for him,” she said.

Her father stared at her, until realisation on his face told her he knew what she had said was not, in fact, a lie nor exaggeration. She met Camnath’s eyes. He too was notably stunned. She lightly brushed his fingers and inched nearer so he knew it was nothing other than a moment of compassion that she said what she did. He curled his fingers round her hand, in recognition of her kindness. A crooked smile of shame crossed his face for his earlier gloating.

Dar’Khan was, for once, speechless and he looked at Tiene with a very rare, humble expression on his face.

“Well, the gratitude of a nation is indeed a worthy accolade,” Sauren said. “Now, young man,” he said turning to Camnath. “Would you allow me to have one dance with your sweet lady, and my future pupil?”

Camnath nodded, appreciating the fact that his permission was asked. “Certainly, but it is of course Tiene, who should decide.”

The men were being very gentlemanly and gallant but she still felt a bit like a prize hawkstrider at auction. She smiled a little uncertainly and accepted Sauren’s hand allowing him to lead her down to where guests whirled around the plaza dancing and smiling. She was acutely aware of his hand on her bare back as he swept her round to the music. “I have heard some very good things about you,” he said suddenly.

“Oh? Was my father trying to impress that I was going to be a good pupil?” She attempted to come across unfazed by the leader of the Blades.

The guildmaster smiled at her. “Indeed he was, naturally. But I also did some of my own investigating.”

“You did?” She was surprised.

“As I am sure you are aware, rogues have a tightly woven network in which all guilds can relay information and news to each other?”

“Yes, I am aware.” She smiled as it triggered memories of Nerisen instilling such information in her through the endless book supply he gave her.

“Then it should be no surprise I enquired about your abilities with the Students of Shadow.”

“It  _should_  be no surprise, no. And yet, it  _is_. I hope you received a promising report?”

Sauren’s laughter was as gravelly as his speech. “Indeed, otherwise you would not be coming to Lordaeron. I foresee a formidable assassin in you Tiene. And, I have no doubt you will achieve great things.” His eyes searched hers for signs of something which she did not understand, but she believed he thought well of her as a promising student.

The music ended and linking arms, he led her back to Camnath, who had watched them like a hawk as they’d danced. The guild master gave Camnath Tiene’s hand and bowed his gratitude to the young couple.

Inaris and Duthan had since rejoined the group having seen their sister dancing with the affluent stranger. Short introductions were made before the guild master announced he had to depart. He would be returning the next morning to Lordaeron to ensure all was ready for his latest batch of students arriving, including Tiene of course. He thanked everyone for their welcome and hospitality. With one last kiss on Tiene’s hand, he turned and left with Brett in tow.

It was late, and time for them to head home also. The next day would be spent getting everything ready for Tiene’s journey to Lordaeron. Dar’Khan obliged with a portal once more. Tiene and Camnath were last to go through. The magister surprised Camanth by asking him if he may have a private word with Tiene. “I promise I will not keep her long,” he assured the suspicious young elf. Camnath looked at Tiene. She nodded, and he passed through the portal.

Dar’Khan looked a little lost for words still, but he eventually found his voice. “Thank you for earlier,” he said. “No-one has actually said that about me before.”

She studied him to see if he was just pretending again. He seemed genuine this time. “Do not under-estimate the power you already possess Dar’Khan. You have truly achieved much. You do not need some churned out title, it is after all merely a name. It will not change what you have done nor will it make you more powerful in itself.”

One corner of his mouth curled. “And do not misbelieve me when I say, your words mean a lot to me. But, Tiene, it is in my nature to seek more. It is the curse, if you will, of magic.”

“Then just don’t be foolish, Dar’Khan. Use it wisely.” She turned to leave.

“Good luck in Lordaeron, Tiene.”

She simply smiled before stepping through the portal and rejoining Camnath.

 

* * *

* * *

 

The Crimson Blade headquarters lay within the sprawling grounds of Capital City in Lordaeron, on the banks of Lordemere Lake. It was very much like a small fortress, with its single entrance through a portcullis, opening into a vast central area which was used predominantly as training grounds . The area also accommodated stables, and outbuildings which stored everything from food supplies to armour and weapons.

Each corner of the courtyard was overlooked by a enormous turret, constructed on three levels, the upper levels being home to Sauren’s elite and himself. The barracks were at lower level and housed up to two hundred students, which was segregated further to reflect their various skill levels. Adjoining the said turrets were the main halls, in which a strategy room, a library, dining hall and the kitchens were situated.

The portcullis was raised as the leader of the Crimson Blade approached with his right-hand man, Brett Hornsby. He rode to the stables, where a stable boy quickly attended and took the reins of his horse. Sauren slipped effortlessly down from the saddle. He immediately strode towards the turret where his quarters were located. Removing his gloves he slapped them to the chest of a waiting pageboy who scurried out of the building when he saw his master nearing.

Brett kept close pace behind him. Sauren barked orders to him over his shoulder as he walked, “Brett, you will see to it that the room next to mine is made ready.”

“The one next to yours? That is your wife’s room.”

Sauren turned on his heel, his lips in a sneer. “Yes, I know, but it is never  _used_ , is it!” his tone was bitter.

“No sir, it is not,” Brett replied, his voice duly lowered. It was a sore subject with his master.

Piper Alston, Sauren’s wife for the past seven years, now lived back in Duskwood with her family. She had produced no heirs for the master of the Crimson Blade. He had been bitterly disappointed, angry even, and she was sent home to her family as a failure. As the Nightflames were considered the nobility of assassins, and Sauren’s influence had already reached far and wide, they did not contest his decision. In order to prevent him from shaming or indeed harming the girl and her family, Piper had agreed to return home quietly, and there was never any mention of the circumstances. Sauren occasionally called upon her still however, to accompany him to any official events, where being seen with a wife would be beneficial. He would claim his husbandly rights, before sending her home again, often bruised and shaken.

It was one of the things Brett loathed about the young commander, but he had made a promise to the boy’s father as he had lain on his death bed, and that was to stay on and protect the guild. Sa’themar knew his son had certain tastes and pleasures which he himself detested, but he also believed he was capable of leading the guild and maintaining its reputation as the most successful band of specialists in the Eastern Kingdoms. Sauren had ambition, and a determination to succeed.

“So – prepared for what then?” Brett asked.

“Not  _what_ , Brett.  _Who_!” The commander’s brown eyes flashed a warning at his second in command.

” _Who_  then?” Brett slowed his pace. He had already guessed the answer.

The leader of the Crimson Blade stepped closer to Brett, and smiled in an all too familiar and unsettling manner. “Tiene Firefury,” Her name slid from his lips and his mouth curved, showing perfect teeth.

Being of the belief that monogamy and honouring your marriage vows were part of being a good man, Brett had remained faithful to Mary, his late wife. He had been widowed now for almost five years, but still he loved her. Sauren’s nocturnal habits therefore, were not something Brett approved of. He fought to keep the distaste from his face and voice. “Forgive me for saying, Sauren, but do you think it is wise to have Tiene in the main tower? And next to your own chamber?”

This was the daughter of an old friend and ex comrade they were discussing. And the daughter of the legendary couple Sauren himself had idolised when he was a young boy. There were still a respectable number of individuals in the guild who had worked with Tiene’s parents, and had remained loyal to this day who would automatically award the girl respect and look after her.

Brett’s concern was that Sauren had a reputation in an area other than that of an assassin, and it was one which a few female students had come to dread. Others, stupidly thought it would further their careers to catch the eye of the handsome, yet undeniably sadistic leader. He may have been bitterly disappointed at having no heir with his wife, but he would not tolerate a possible bastard neither. That particular subject was never discussed outside the walls of the headquarters. Speak of it, and one lost their tongue – or worse.

The youngling was nothing like his father. Sa’themar had been an honourable, decent man, who believed his rogues were figures to be respected and who showed respect and regard for others in return. If any had got out of hand, he dealt with them, quickly, concisely but fairly. Sauren rode his way through history on the back of his father’s enviable reputation. He was nonetheless cunning and wise to know how best to utilise it. But, he also bathed in the privileges he felt such a position awarded.

The leader of the Blades stared at the old assassin through strands of his platinum mane. “She is a Firefury, Brett. She was born with the blood of two of the most deadly & impressive assassins to have ever been trained by my father. She is possibly even a match for the Nightflame dynasty.”

Brett nodded in agreement. Sauren took two steps closer to him. He was slightly taller than the human rogue, though much leaner, athletically built, so he gave the impression of bearing down on the older man. “Would you rather I placed her amongst the hungry, wild bucks in the student quarters?” he said waving his hands towards the dormitories.

“No, sir! But the girls’ quarters...”

Sauren’s voice took on a sharp tone. “Are  _inadequate_ for such a young woman. Now see to the room!” The Crimson Blade leader turned and with three large strides entered the hall, before bounding up the stairs to his quarters.

Brett Hornsby ushered the page boy to get the chambermaids. They arrived and curtsied, as they did to all the high ranking Blades. He told them what was required and they went about their duties diligently.

How he wished he had torn up Yathas’ letter requesting that his daughter join the Blades.

It had instantly caught the leader’s attention however, when he read the name Firefury. For all Sauren had been a very young boy at the time of Yathas’ and Lina’s membership, he nonetheless had watched them keenly from between the balustrade spindles in the inner halls, or the windows overlooking the courtyard, as they had trained. He was fascinated by how they moved, so swiftly, agile, in complete synchronicity. Choreographed in a manner he had never witnessed in any others, he wanted to be like them. He loved his father, idolised him even, but the Firefurys were unique. How he had cried the day Lina had been killed on a mission and Yathas decided after, that the life of the assassin was no longer for him.

 _Yes_ , Brett thought,  _if only I had torn up that letter_. He feared for the young daughter of his friend.


	14. Crimson Blade

* * *

 

Mid morning, and Yathas and his sons ensured the trunk with Tiene’s things was secured to the wagon for the trek to Lordaeron. Duthan had managed to acquire a couple of horses as they were best for pulling a wagon the distance.

All was good to go apart from one or two light snacks for the journey. If there were no hitches on the road they should reach their destination by early evening as Yathas had one or two stops to deliver some armour en route. Inaris was going to join them. Duthan had to return to the Farstrider Enclave so he and Lor’themar would accompany them part of the way.

Camnath had come to say his farewells. It was a poignant moment, the two of them standing together, neither wanting to say goodbye. The lad was obviously smitten, as was she, it was really rather sweet. The brothers sneaked a peek from the window. It seemed to be taking them an awful long time to do the thing they both so obviously wanted to do.

Inaris sighed heavily, his patience for once, wearing thin. He shook his head at Duthan and Lor’themar. “That’s it! They need to be shown.”

The other two just smirked, knowing full well what he was going to do. He went outside to the front of the path, where they both stood looking pathetic and sad. They only noticed him when he was beside them, hands on hips, and brow furrowed. They watched as he rolled up his sleeves, then placing a hand each on both their heads, steered them to a kiss. “For goodness sake you two, just kiss and be done with it!” He waited a second before removing his hands. Once satisfied that the deed was done he stepped away into the house and back beside Duthan and Lor’themar, holding out his hand to Duthan.

“You are incorrigible,” Lor’themar laughed.

“No!” Duthan said shaking his head. “You intervened, so no winnings.”

“Nothing in the rules to say I could not lend a helping hand,” Inaris quipped.

“You used a spell didn’t you?” Duthan said. “Look! They seem welded.”

“I did  _not_!” Inaris replied indignantly.

“Still no bet!”

“You’re a sore loser, Duthan.”

“And you are a cheat,” his brother laughed.

The two young elves soon sprang apart as Yathas arrived with some final supplies. They looked a little embarrassed, but he saw them tittering away under their breaths. He cocked an eyebrow at the youngsters before moving to the wagon to tie on the goods. He smiled as his back was turned to them.  _Not kids anymore_ , he thought.

It was time for their trek to begin. With one last kiss, Camnath helped Tiene up onto the wagon. He followed them all the way to Shepherd’s Gate and stood waving as they trundled over the rise and out of sight. Tiene felt a lump in her throat. She would miss him terribly. Already she was looking forward to coming home to see him again.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Having hardly slept for the excitement from both the night before and the coming day, Tiene dozed off and on throughout the journey, even with Inaris whistling his irritating little tune. She managed to wake to say farewell to Duthan and Lor’themar as they passed through Ghostlands. Both hugged her and wished her well. Before long she was asleep again.

Later that day, she was stirred from her slumber by lots of chatter, children giggling, and animals braying, screeching and grunting. Her eyes peeled open to the sights of people and livestock milling towards a huge metropolis ahead. Capital City. They had arrived, but she felt as if they just left home. Inaris smiled at her pointing ahead. “It’s quite a sight isn’t it, sis?”

She sat up rubbing her eyes. She had not realised the city would be so big. She had visions of getting lost in this vast place. She crawled up onto the top seat beside her father. As the wagon trundled under the great arch she looked up the enormous walls. Banners with the Lordaeron coat of arms fluttered in the breeze, as heralds to all who entered the city gates. Once under the main arch, there were roads to either side which led to various buildings, small industries, shops and houses, stretching back further than the eye could see.

Yathas turned the wagon to the left and followed the road through the streets. Children played off to the sides with hoops and sticks, cards and boules while a canopy of clothes billowed and fluttered on washing lines overhead as they stretched right across the street, operated by pulleys.

Covered stalls offered various fare such as fruit, breads, cheeses and vegetables, the owners of which shouted their daily deals over the din of the passing wagons, horses, traders and pedestrians. Mothers with infants in tow clinging to apron strings, bought their shopping which was either wrapped in brown paper or handed over as it was and stuffed into their baskets.

The occasional panic-stricken flurry of wings as chickens and geese were startled by the coming and going of farmers selling or buying livestock. Sheep, cows and pigs were in straw laden pens. Auctioneers stood on crates shouting unidentifiable sounds and pointing at individuals in the gathering crowd, then banging a mallet on stands beside them to denote a sale. Another body would rush in, pick the animal up or steer it out towards the successful bidder.

Further along, other animals had a much grimmer fate in store as the butcher’s hatchet made a sickening  _thwunk_  on a block to the rear of the stall. The smell emanating from that stall was not the most pleasant and Tiene wrinkled her nose before pinching it closed.

Several buildings on, and a complete contrast of goods were for sale. A beautiful flower stand with rainbow coloured blooms, arranged in stunning bouquets and posies. Inaris winked at one of the young girls selling the flowers, and she blushed, smiling, giving him a little wave. He turned to find Tiene looking at him with raised eyebrows. He shrugged.

Shops that sold stylish dresses for ladies and smart suits for men lined a whole street. Tiene had always been well dressed, but these designs were truly astounding. She wondered if Camnath’s father supplied any of them. She would make a point of finding that out when she had time.

Another turn to the left and up ahead they approached what looked like a mini fortress. The portcullis was rising as they neared and then she saw it. The Crimson Blade emblem. She had not known really what to expect, but even her experience with the Students of Shadow and Ravenholdt Manor had not prepared her for this.

They arrived in an enormous central court. Along the sides, storehouses, stables and blacksmiths. Trainees were honing their skills on dummies to their left of the open space, while ahead they were learning how to dodge, parry and deflect attacks. On the right yet more students were being put through simple exercises to maintain their suppleness and strength.

The new arrivals pulled up next to the stables and the three of them climbed down from the wagon. Brett Hornsby came jogging over to meet them. “Yathas! Old friend,” he shouted.

Again the two of them welcomed each other as if they had not seen each other in years, although it had been merely hours. Brett shook Inaris’ hand too and then looked at Tiene. “Young lady, you look equally mesmerising in your leather armour as you did in that exquisite gown last night.” He patted her hand.

“Thank you,” she said. He seemed affable sort of chap and she could imagine her father and him being friends right enough. Over his shoulder she saw the leader of the Blades approaching.  _If he does this for all his new trainees_ , she thought,  _he’ll never get any work done._  Still, it was considerate to be greeted in person by the most important individual in the guild.

He really was quite a figure to behold. He oozed confidence, experience, ambition and style. Daunting in many ways, but definitely inspiring. She reckoned he was about ten years older than her, maybe a little more. Still so young though, to be master of such an influential organisation. Then again, he had not been left much choice, since he fell heir to it when his father died.

“Good afternoon,” he welcomed Yathas, shaking his hand warmly and Inaris likewise. “It is wonderful to see you all again.”

“Thank you,” her father said. I hope we have not arrived too late for you.”

“Not at all, and you must stay and dine with us. I can have one of our mage acquaintances portal you home, wagon and all.”

“That is most kind, thank you. We are a bit hungry certainly.”

“Good, good.” His eyes turned to Tiene. He smiled, taking in her deep burgundy leather armour. “Hello Tiene. Welcome to your new home, sort-of-speak.”

“Thank you. It is good to be here.”

He held her gaze a few moments. “That is exceptionally nice armour, ” he said. “Where did you get it?”

“My father made it for me,” she replied, proudly.

“Really?” Sauren said, looking back at Yathas, eyes wide. “Tell me, would you consider being a supplier for us? That is exquisite work.”

Yathas was taken aback. “Well, I would be happy to discuss business, certainly.”

“Excellent! We can talk at dinner.” He held out his arm to escort Tiene. “Shall we?”

She smiled and accepted his offer. “Brett, see to Tiene’s luggage will you, please? Get the stable boy to help if need be.”

Sauren led his new pupil and dinner guests to the main halls.

The stable boy, Morgan, slunk out from the stables having overheard the conversation. “Since when did he start saying please?” he looked up at Brett.

“Since a Firefury returned to the guild,” the burly man replied, hauling the trunk down from the wagon. “It won’t last though, so don’t get excited.”

Morgan laughed, taking one end of the trunk and helping Brett carry it to Tiene’s rooms.

The dining hall was an enormous room which easily sat one hundred and fifty to perhaps a hundred and seventy diners at any one time, not including the top table which allowed another twelve to fourteen, but that was reserved for the trainers, advisors and of course, Sauren himself. Enormous candle chandeliers hung on sturdy chains all the way down the centre of the room. Tapestries depicting ancient battles adorned the walls, some of the scenes rather graphic. Tiene did wonder why such scenes would be displayed in a room where people ate. Then again, you didn’t stare at the walls when eating she supposed. The floor was highly polished stone, slightly iridescent and immaculate. This amazed her considering all the feet that would traipse over it and inevitable spillages from food and drink following the meals. She was glad she didn’t have to clean it.

Heads turned as the leader of the Blades approached the tables with his guests. Sauren led them along in front the top table where five other people already sat, two of which were women, and they were armoured to the teeth. Inaris adopted his smouldering look at the red haired one, who stared at him with indifference. Tiene nudged him. “She looks like she could eat you for breakfast.”

Inaris’ laugh was deep in his throat, and a little suggestive. “I certainly hope so.”

Tiene nudged him again. “I meant  _literally_!”

He turned to his sister. “Oh! You think so?”

“I’ve seen more response to your flirting techniques in a bucket of swill.”

Inaris looked back at the red head. Her eyes were like shiny black scarabs and her mouth a thin tight line. “Hmm, point taken,” he agreed. “Hope she’s not one of your trainers.”

Tiene flinched at the thought. The woman was rather scary.

Sauren halted and turned to Tiene. She drew up, surprised at the sudden attention. He smiled.  _What perfect teeth_ , she thought, then shook the thought away and waited for him to speak. “Would you care to sit with us here – ” he gestured to the top table, “-or with your fellow students?”

She was momentarily stumped and looked toward the main dining area. Some eyes looked at her friendly, others with disdain and yet more showed no interest at all. She was going to spend most of her time with these individuals though, so may as well start as she meant to finish. “I will sit with the students, please.”

Sauren smiled again. “Very well Tiene, but please sit near the front so you are not too far from your family.”

She nodded and moved to a table situated centrally to the top one. There were three available seats nearest the top table, she took the one next to a girl who seemed happy to make her acquaintence. “Hi! I’m Lexie Melton,” the girl said offering to shake hands.

Tiene smiled and shook with her. “Nice to meet you Lexie. I’m Tiene Firefury.”

“Firefury? You’re a Firefury?  _The_  Firefurys?” Lexie asked excitedly.

Tiene was stunned by the adulation of her name. “Well, I guess. Yes.”

“Yathas and Lina’s daughter?”

Tiene nodded, still amazed at the girl knowing anything about her when she had only just met her. “That is my father and brother with Sauren,” Tiene pointed to the top table where her father and Inaris sat to Sauren’s left.

“Oh!” Lexie’s eyes widened. Then she turned to the person next to her and whispered. Tiene watched in utter amazement as the next person whispered across and down the table, and so it went on. All eyes turned towards her. She swallowed. She felt like one of the livestock she had seen on the way in, waiting for the mallet or the hatchet, though she was unsure which one was coming her way.

She turned her attention to the top table. Inaris was watching her, grinning at the amazement on his sister’s face. Yathas was in deep conversation with Sauren but smiled at her as he sensed his daughter’s eyes upon him. The guild leader, facing her father as he rested his chin on his knuckles, listening to what he was saying, turned his eyes to her also. She could not read the dark brown orbs, but his gaze was steady and oddly reassuring. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly and then his full attention was given back to Yathas.

She turned back to Lexie, who was still beaming from finding out that she was sitting next to a Firefury.

“There is a book in the library,” she went on to explain, ” which has every rogue ever trained in this guild logged in it. Your parents are amongst the most prestigious of listings. And, there is an  _amazing_  portrait of them with Sa’themar, too.”

Tiene, once more, was utterly astounded. It seemed her father had seriously underplayed how significant he and her mother had been in the expansive circle of rogues. She was itching to go view this book and the portrait.

Brett walked in and strode towards the tables. He noticed Tiene sitting with the trainees. He stopped just in front of her and smiled. “Your choice?”

“Yes, Brett. I will be training alongside these people, so thought it best to mingle from the start.”

He nodded his approval. “Good thinking, Tiene.”

“Do you know who Tiene actually is, Brett?” Lexie said excitedly.

The older man smiled. “Yes, Lexie, I do, and I know her father very well.”

“Isn’t this wonderful? We have a Firefury back in the guild.”

Brett’s face betrayed a little hesitation which he duly forced into another broad smile. “Indeed it is.” Then he turned and went to join the top table. He took his place on Sauren’s right.

As dinner progressed, some other students had moved seats to be nearer Tiene and were asking questions about her family, where she lived, what skills did she already have, if any, did she have a boyfriend. They were incredibly curious about her. Never had she had so much attention and while it was nice to be included in such a large group, it was also pretty daunting.

Of course, she noted there were some who just threw scathing glances at her and her instant club of admirers. She wondered why they were so judgemental. Her name may be famous in rogue society, but it did not automatically mean that she was given status which she had not yet earned. Lexie however, seemed to know differently. “You are very honoured indeed by the way, for you have been given luxury accommodation.”

“I have?” Tiene knew nothing about this.

“Have you not seen your rooms yet?”

 _Rooms_? Tiene shook her head. “Am I not in with all of you?”

Lexie laughed. “As if, Tiene Firefury! No, you have been allocated the rooms next to the master himself in the main tower, no less.” She winked and nudged Tiene.

This news was most unexpected. But why the nudge and wink? She had seen Inaris and Duthan do that before to each other during their little naughty talks outside her window.  _Oh!_  Her eyes widened.  _Surely not!!!_

“Aye,” Lexie said, munching on a chicken leg. “He is making sure no one is going to give you grief like they do so many other newbies. Besides, our dorms, while they are clean and warm, are no place for someone such as yourself.”

Tiene let out a sigh of relief. For a moment she thought Lexie had meant something entirely different. Preferential treatment of this kind however, may explain the animosity of some of the others in the dining hall. She did not deserve special arrangements, she had to prove herself worthy yet. However, she also could not deny that her own rooms sounded kind of nice.

After about an hour, the dining room started to empty. Lexie stood up, and dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she bade Tiene goodnight. “I will see you in the morning, although your training does not officially start until the next day.”

“Oh, alright then. Sleep well Lexie.”

“You too. No doubt you will have an excellent sleep, I bet the bed is super soft and luxurious. Goodnight Tiene.”

“Goodnight.” Some of the other students who had joined in their conversations waved goodnight to Tiene as well. She liked that.

“Well, we have to be off now, Tiene.”

She looked up into the eyes of her father. Inaris stood close behind. She rose from her seat and instantly flung her arms round her father’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

He chortled, “What for?”

“For everything.” She felt an inexplicable lump in her throat. She was not unhappy as such, she reckoned it was just her realising that her life now was going to be spent mostly away from the warmth and safety of her home and family. She stepped back and sniffed quietly, trying to keep tears at bay.

She failed the minute Inaris grabbed her in a hug. “Come on now little sis. You will have a great time and you will only be a portal or a flight away from home.”

“I know,” she sniffed. “I just love you all so much, and I’ll miss you. Even that silly tune you always whistle.”

Inaris laughed. “I will whistle it every time you come home then, at double the volume.”

They all walked outside, where a mage was waiting to portal her father, brother and the wagon back to Silvermoon. The swirling watery centre of the portal expanded and with a last farewell wave and a kiss blown from Inaris, they vanished and the portal was closed.

Sauren strolled over to her. Her eyes were misty and a solitary tear trickled down the side of her nose. Gently, he wiped it away. She smiled, coyly. “Come," he said.  "I will show you to your accommodation.” He gestured towards the main halls and she fell into step beside him. “I have put you in rooms near my own,” he started to explain.

“So I believe,” she said.

“Oh?” his brow creased.

“Yes, Lexie told me.”

“Did she now.” His voice lowered slightly; he seemed a bit put out.

On sensing perhaps it was something Lexie should not have told her, she quickly jumped to the girl's defense. “She merely said it was for protection from those who bully the new students ... and because I’m a Firefury.”

He laughed lightly. “Well, she is correct at least.”

“I do appreciate this, but do you think it will make things easier or harder for me to be accepted by the other students?”

He stopped and looked at her. “I believe you will cope regardless, Tiene. I see a strong woman in you and an ability to make situations fall in with what  _you_  want.”

She was extremely flattered. How on Azeroth could he make that assumption in such a short time knowing her though, she wondered. His perfect teeth flashed in a smile again, and the thoughts drifted away. They continued towards the tower.

When he swung the door open her mouth was agape. The rooms were beautiful. Luxury the likes of which she had never seen before. An ample living space with stylish upholstered chairs and a couch were sat in front of a roaring fire. Expensive looking rugs graced the floor and she felt her step springing as she crossed them. Windows that stretched to the ceiling were adorned with rich heavy curtains in a stunning deep red that seemed to shimmer in the firelight. Off to the left was her bed chamber with an unbelievably huge bed in the centre of the room, draped in sumptuous fur throws and plump pillows. A washroom was located at the back of the room behind the bed. Her trunk had been delivered and was waiting at the bottom of the bed.

“Is it to your liking?” Sauren asked, leaning against the arch that divided the rooms.

Her face gave him the answer. “It is simply beautiful!” she breathed, spinning round to take it in once more.

He watched her, a sly smile creeping on his mouth. The urge to grab and ravish her on the bed was almost overwhelming. He could picture her body under his as he pounded into her, making her cry out his name, begging him for more. But he stayed where he was. His eyes continued to watch her hungrily. A Firefury! In  _his_  guild,  _his_  domain,  _his_  kingdom. But no. He would not touch her. Not yet, at least. He wanted her to bloom, to be the very best that she could be; as an assassin, a thief, a mere shadow, a Crimson Blade. This one, for some reason, he did not wish to break, although desire her fiercely, he did. He wanted to savour her. His pleasures of the flesh would be sought elsewhere for the time being.

“I shall let you unpack then...” He forced himself to turn from her.

She stopped spinning. “Oh! I was going to ask something of you.”

He straightened and faced her once more. He cocked an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“Lexie told me of a book and a portrait in the library...”

His perfect teeth flashed again as he smiled. “Ah, yes. Your parents. Very well, come with me and I will show you.”

He led her back down the spiral staircase and out along the corridors past the dining hall. He entered the second tower base and turned right through another corridor and into a vast hallway. He stopped in front of heavy wooden doors and swung them open, gesturing for her to enter. Tiene was once again amazed at what was in front of her. Shelves reaching halfway up three walls, topped by a walk-around and more shelves above, all filled from one end to the other in well-bound books. In the middle of the room stood a small dais on which a sat a solitary large book. He moved towards it and opened it to the pages she sought. He stepped back as she came round the side of the dais and looked at the pages.

There it catalogued her parents’ achievements with the guild. Countless missions, every one a success, their noted tactics and innovated techniques, all in fine detail. She glanced round at Sauren. “I had no idea just how incredible they were,” she said, turning back to the book. He took a step closer. “They were the best, Tiene. I recall watching them when I was a young boy. They were breath-taking.” His hand moved in front of her and grabbed her hand. He turned her round and led her to the right, to the wall which had no books. Instead, it was hung with portraits of many rogues in various poses and stances, and in the middle was the portrait Lexie had spoken of.

Tiene smiled broadly. The man standing all in black could be none other than Sa’themar Nightflame. He was pure elf, his hair the same colour as Sauren’s and long, incredibly long, but pulled up into a high knot, the tails flowing in an imaginary breeze. Sitting in front of him was her mother, beautiful Lina, in dark green leather armour. Her wrist guards held small blades tucked neatly in place, the hilt of two daggers showing above her shoulders. Her golden hair worn loose and full. Then crouched on one knee slightly to her right, Yathas. Armour matching that of his wife’s, he posed with his daggers both drawn. He sported his beard in those days too. A deadly duo, but both with the faces of angels. Tienes’s heart swelled to bursting, she could not speak. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and turned, bumping into Sauren as she did so. “Oh! Sorry!” she squeaked, lifting her hand to her mouth in a bid to hide the fact her lips quivered from the emotions she felt at seeing the portrait.

“Quite alright,” he said, his voice raspy and comforting. “Shall I escort you back now? You can study the book and any others at your leisure, any time.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Yes I think I will head back to the rooms now. For all I slept on the way here, I still feel tired.”

“It’s the excitement of a new chapter in your life, Tiene. Not to mention the good food,” he smiled.

“Yes, indeed.”

Tiene Firefury snuggled under sheer luxury that night and dreamed of green meadows, an ebony haired boy and a kiss, stolen in stealth. Her lips held a smile of contentment as she drifted into a peaceful slumber.


	15. Nottley The Noble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces Sara@Finfychan's other OC, Louvel Nottley who I must admit, became a favourite of mine. Thank you again, Sara.

* * *

 

The following morning, Tiene rose bright and early having heard a cock crowing from somewhere nearby. She washed and dressed, then spent some time brushing her hair. She could not help but put a little lip balm, eyeliner and blusher on. She looked at her little pots of magic, as she called them, and suddenly wondered where she would get more when she ran out. It hadn’t occurred to her until now. Could she dare visit Aledine for more when she went home sometime?  _That would be a bit cheeky_ , she thought. Perhaps she would look today in the city. Her training was not due to start until tomorrow so she could look around.

She would need to find out what the protocol was though for students leaving the grounds. She wondered if anyone would be awake yet. She daren’t just leave, that might be considered bad manners, or against rules or something. She could at least go to the library meantime.

Squeezing into her leather boots, then fastening a cape round her shoulders, she quietly opened her door. The door across from her led to Sauren’s rooms. She waited, listening for any movement. Nothing. He was probably still asleep, it was early after all. She slipped out of her room and closed the door softly behind her.

She remembered the way easily enough. As she passed the dining hall, the smell of freshly baked bread drifted towards her nostrils. The kitchens were located behind the hall and so the wonderful aroma, permeated the air, making her feel all warm and gooey. Mixed in with it was also the smell of ham, eggs, mushrooms and some sort of spice which she was none too familiar with but smelled delicious. As all dining was done in two sittings, she decided to opt for the second one, or else get something in the city if she found out she could leave of course. Meanwhile, she would visit the library.

As soon as she opened the door, she was drawn back to the portrait with her parents. She could not get over how amazing they were, and father looked so young! As she looked at her mother’s image, she could see the likeness to her, right down to the slight upturn of her nose.

He sat on the window ledge to the right of the main door, one foot poised on the cill, with bended knee. His elbow resting on it and a book sat in his other hand. He smiled as she had entered the library. He somehow knew she would pay an early visit. Observing in silence as she stared at the portrait, he noted how like her mother she was. Grace and beauty abound.

He had always secretly wished to emulate the sleak, stylish moves of her parents, but had never succeeded in finding a partner capable enough. The Firefury’s peerless skills resulting in their successful and pristine execution of missions, had made them legends of the guild. But all those he had tried to initiate, failed to enable him achieve his ultimate goal. The day Yathas’ letter arrived however, he had become hopeful of finally finding his dream partner. His curiosity could be stayed no longer and when he heard Brett was going to a wedding where Yathas and his family would also attend, he could not help but insist he accompany his right hand man.

He recognised Yathas as soon as he arrived at the wedding. The man was much older than when he had last seen him during his days as a Blade, but he nonetheless possessed the same stature and poise. It was only the second time he had actually met the man outside of the Blades, the last time being at a meeting with his father, when Yathas announced he was calling it a day with the Crimson Blade. The now grown Sauren had been greeted warmly by the ex-Blade, who spoke of remembering him as a little boy spying on the trainees. He was not wrong.

He very vaguely remembered there were two Firefury sons although he had never met them. Yathas and Lina had secreted them away in their home city of Silvermoon. Friends had looked after the boys when the two assassins had work together, but they took turns at spending time with their family, and did fewer missions together over time. Family, had become their centre, their focus, their world. They were proud of their sons and when their daughter was born, Sauren knew the couple would soon retire from the life of espionage, thievery, and assassination once and for all. As it turned out, fate brought that day around sooner than anticipated. A sad day indeed for the Crimson Blade.

Time had marched on and he was going to meet the Firefury daughter, who wished to follow in her parent’s footsteps. She had, by all accounts, sounded a promising pupil from his sources. He had no doubt she would be beautiful too, just as her mother had been, but, he had not expected her to have quite the impact she did on him. When he saw her in that ice-blue gown, he saw much more than just a promising partner as a rogue.

And now, she was here. His pupil. His possession. He slapped the book shut in his hand, smiling wickedly as he saw her jump at the sudden sound. She spun round.

“I did not mean to frighten you,” he said light-heartedly. “Well –  _startle_  you, a little maybe.”

She smiled. “That you did. I thought you were still sleeping.”

He pushed himself off the sill and moved across to her, placing the book in a gap on one of the shelves as he neared. “Did you listen at my door, Tiene?” He asked, his voice a quiet rasp, his eyes mischievous.

She fidgeted from one foot to the other, a little embarrassed that he would think such a thing. “No! Not at all,” she said. “But, thinking you would still be asleep at this hour, I moved quietly, so not to wake you.”

He looked her over, before focusing on her eyes. “Most considerate,” he replied. “But, I do not sleep late at any rate, not even after ... a  _very_  exhausting night.”

She felt an inexplicable shiver from the way he said that, but managed to disguise it by turning to the book on the dais. She had an inkling what he meant, but there was no way on Azeroth she was going to ask. She wasn’t quite that dumb, thanks to her brother’s little late night talks. Best way to tackle the awkwardness was change the subject. “Might I ask what your rules are on students leaving the grounds?” She turned back to face him, her moment of embarrassment melting. He still had a sly smile on his lips.

“Why, Tiene! You wound me. You have just arrived and now you wish to leave? Are my hosting skills that dire?”

She laughed a little. “No! I have no doubt you are the perfect host, Sauren. However, I am here in my capacity as a student, your _pupil_ , not a guest...”

His eyes hardened just a shade. She had her mother’s quick knack for assessing a situation and putting it into perspective at least. She had rather skilfully reminded him that he was the trainer, and she the pupil. Though technically, it was neither. Not that it had meant much to him up to now where others had been concerned. However, she had, albeit subtley, set the boundaries.

“What I meant was, as my training does not start until the morrow, am I permitted to explore the city?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You wish a tour?”

“Well, I have never been to Capital City before and I hoped to see some of it before you drill me in the ways of a rogue.”

A small cough caught in his throat, his fist covering his mouth as he tried to hide a smirk.  _Unfortunate turn of phrase_ , he thought,  _but promising_. “On one condition then,” he said, having recovered.

“What condition?”

“As you are not officially my pupil until tomorrow, you allow me to escort you.”

Tiene was very surprised at the offer. “Don’t you have other pupils to see to though?”

“That is why, Tiene, I employ trainers. To teach students,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

She lowered her head. “Of course.” Then recovering from her moment of foolishness, she lifted her chin. “Can we go now then?”

He smiled at her impatience. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, I was considering buying something when I was in the city.”

“Hmm,” an idea formed. “We could always steal some.”

“I thought you said I was not your pupil until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you are very astute, Tiene. Very well, if you will not eat from my table here, then you will eat from one I frequent elsewhere.”

The city was already buzzing for all the early hour of the day. Carts, barrows were being trundled through the cobbled streets while stall holders were going about their daily task of setting up shop and displaying their goods. The butchers sharpened their hatchets and knives for the slaughter of innocents that would end up on someone’s dinner table that night.

Sauren stayed back a little as she took in everything around her. She still possessed a childlike quality with her curiosity. That was most definitely all that was childish about her though, he thought as he watched her move back and forth at different stalls. The body was all woman. Tempting, teasing, curved and soft. Capable of taking his type of pleasure, and pain, he was certain.

He looked away, to try stem such thoughts. He would have her within his reach for a minimum of five years. That was the contract, agreed and signed by her father. Five years in which to make her into a swift, highly skilled and deadly Blade. His enquiries about her prior to her acceptance however, suggested she would reach her peak earlier. And, if her parentage was anything to go by, he was certain that would be the case.

She was stopping at nearly every stall that was dressed and ready for business but his stomach growled, he was ready for breakfast. He came to stand behind her as she was studying small trinkets and snuff boxes. His dark eyes met that of the stall holder, an older woman with an ample bosom, ruddy complexion and blue eyes. “May I suggest we have breakfast now, or otherwise I may have to eat  _you_ ,” he said next to his student’s ear. The busty woman made a cooing noise followed by a little chortle, bringing chubby fingers to her lips to try disguise her missing tooth. He smirked, then his eyes reverted to Tiene.

“You  _must_  be hungry then to think you can eat me,” Tiene replied turning to face him, replacing one of the little trinkets.

Once more he looked at the stall holder. “Oh, you have  _no_  idea,” he said, knowing the woman would be sent almost into rapture by the innuendo and his raspy voice. The woman’s chortle was almost like a bark causing Tiene to look at her. The stall holder instantly turned away. Tiene turned back to Sauren, whose grin said it all. He had been teasing the poor stall holder. Although the woman did not seem to mind, in fact going by the blush Tiene could see on the sides of her cheeks, and her shoulders still shuddering, she had enjoyed it. So the guild master was a flirt, and enjoyed taunting the fairer sex. She reminded herself that her brothers, Inaris in particular, did the same.

“Okay, let’s eat.” They turned to leave the stall but not before Sauren tossed a coin to the stall holder. She caught it in her sausage fingers. “Thank you, sir,” She wheezed. His smile made her coo again.

He took Tiene to Capital Inn in the centre of the busy trade area. It was cosy, with low ceilings, small paned windows and a few tables in the middle of the room. Further back were some booths for those who wanted more privacy. At this hour, it was relatively quiet still, though three of the tables out front were taken. At one were some blacksmiths by the looks of them, in their dirty work clothes and black hands. Another, a young couple, obviously in love, as they held hands over their breakfast plates and ate with their other. The last table had four individuals, which nothing gave away what they were.

Two booths in the back were also taken. One by a trio of men huddled together speaking animatedly about something of the utmost importance going by the waving of arms and shaking of heads. The other was a lone figure, well dressed and wearing a monocle. He sat with a bottle of wine in front of him, quietly sipping away, watching all going on around him. He almost looked out of place.

But then, so did Sauren in his well tailored dark blue jacket and trousers and knee length boots. He was always immaculate, every time she saw him, even yesterday, when he was relaxed and greeting them as they arrived, he donned a plain white shirt and tan leather trousers and still looked amazing.

He ushered her to one of the remaining booths, where they were quickly attended to by a young waitress.

Sauren looked at the girl, the smallest of twitches playing at the corners of his mouth. She was transfixed by the platinum haired half elf. Lazily, he looked towards Tiene. “What would you like, Tiene?”

“Do you have ham and eggs? Oh and moonberry muffins, do you have those?” she asked the girl. The waitress did not answer, her gaze still fixed on Sauren. Tiene looked at them both, waiting. Sauren huffed. “My guest asked you a question, girl,” his voice low, almost angry.

“Oh,” she was startled from her lapse of concentration. She looked at Tiene, then lowered her eyes. “Forgive me. What did you ask for ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” Tiene giggled at being called such. “I am not worthy of such address.”

The girl seemed embarrassed. Tiene felt instantly guilty for making her feel so. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to mock. Please, forgive me.”

The girl smiled sheepishly, stealing another glance at Sauren, whose brown eyes bore into her.

“Ham and eggs I asked for, and do you have moonberry muffins?”

“No ma’ – miss, I’m afraid we have no moonberry muffins, but we do have croissants, they are delicious served warm with wild berry jam.”

“Ooh, that sounds lovely. I will have those as well then please.”

The girl nodded, then turned back to Sauren. “I will have the same,” he said, dismissing her without so much as a look or a please or thank you.

The girl hovered. He stared at her. “It has been a while, Sauren,” the girl said, her voice trembling.

Tiene sensed a tension between them. Sauren looked calm although there was a hint of irritation in his eyes. She thought the girl looked close to tears.

“And so it shall remain." He replied hotly. At that the girl quickly turned and fled to the kitchen.

Tiene looked questioningly at the guild leader. He had been very rude to the young girl, who clearly had a crush on him. He caught her looking. “She is infatuated,” he offered in way of explanation of his rebuff.

“So was the stall holder earlier, yet you were nice to her.” Tiene commented.

He was momentarily speechless. He was not used to having his behaviour called into question, at least not since he was a child, and most definitely not by a beautiful woman. He sat up straight, flexing his neck slightly. He ran his tongue over his top lip before answering. “Some are harmless fixations, Tiene, others are... well,  _unhealthy_ , shall we say.”

A small sound like laughter came from the booth next to them. Tiene’s eyes flashed across to the monocled individual who was sipping his wine but with a grin on his lips.

“I see,” she said, though she didn’t really. He had been rude and that was all there was to it.

“Perhaps you  _will –_ one day,” Sauren managed a tight smile, relieved his explanation was accepted.

Another small chortle. This time Sauren heard it and he twisted round to the booth next to them. Its occupier just looked at the handsome half elf and continued sipping his wine. “Do you have something to contribute, Nottley?” Sauren hissed.

The man slowly lowered his glass, his own eyes dark and threatening.

Tiene inadvertently reached across the table and placed her hand on top of Sauren’s. He snapped his head round and stared at her hand. She withdrew instantly, but he quickly retrieved it stroking her knuckles with his long slender fingers. “I apologise.” He said quietly,  “My behaviour was most unbecoming in front of a lady.”

“Lady?” the man called Nottley asked.

Tiene’s eyes pleaded Sauren not to snap at the man. He acknowledged her unease and took a deep breath. “Yes, Nottley,” he responded in a measured tone. “She most definitely _is_. This is Tiene Firefury.”

The monocled figure poked his head round the seats of the booths. “A Firefury?”  It was now that Tiene could see the man was probably on his second bottle of wine as he seemed a little sluggish in his movements.

She smiled. “Yes, that’s right. Nottley, is it?”

The man swung his legs out from under his table so he was sitting looking at her from his left. “Do not be like that young whipper-snapper,” he pointed to Sauren, whose expression had changed considerably. He seemed relaxed now - smiling even.  "Calling people by their surnames, I _hate_ that. No, my name is Louvel. Louvel Nottley, at your service.” He bobbed his head.

“Pleased to meet you Louvel,” Tiene said, leaning forward, taking her hand from Sauren’s slender fingers. His mouth twitched, but he certainly did not seem angry any more.

“Likewise. And if you are a Firefury as in Yathas and Lina, then you are more of a princess than a lady.”

She was quite overwhelmed by this compliment and laughed lightly.

“And you would know all about royalty, wouldn’t you ...  _Nottley_ ,” Sauren said. Tiene studied the two men. The colourfully dressed man tutted at the use of his surname again, but he too wore a smirk.

“I take it you two are  _not_ at loggerheads then?” she said, eyes still flitting between them.

Louvel and Sauren laughed. “No, Tiene we are not.” Sauren explained, “I have tried to get this man to join us on numerous occasions but he flatly refuses.”

“Oh? You are a rogue?” she asked wide-eyed. This hardly looked like your stereotypical assassin. His bright and slightly eccentric choice of attire, the monocle and the shoulder length black hair, would suggest he did not blend in with his surroundings too easily, not unless they were at a fayre, that is. “So who  _do_  you work for, if you do not mind my enquiring?” she asked.

Louvel held her steady gaze.  _Pretty little thing_ , he thought. “Myself! I will not join or follow anyone, it gets too complicated.”

“But, is there not sometimes an advantage to working with others, say in large espionage missions?”

“Pfft!” Louvel huffed. “Only advantage in that, is following where the squads go then nipping in and grabbing the loot before they know what’s hit them. But that is also inclined to be messy.”

Sauren laughed out loud. “So that is why some of my teams come back with very little, because  _you_  have been there thieving from thieves.”

Louvel grinned. “I would not dare step on  _your_  toes Sauren Nightflame.”

“Hmm, just as I would not touch that ludicrous coat of yours,” Sauren laughed.

Tiene looked puzzled. “If anyone so much as puts a pinprick in his coat he would disembowel them,” Sauren explained.

Tiene raised her eyebrows.  _Over a coat_? She thought.

“My wife made it for me, and I treasure it,” Louvel informed her proudly. His expression changed suddenly as he looked at the floor. He shifted and jumped a little in his seat before he stomped his foot loudly. Twice. The action caused Tiene to jump. He looked up, slightly sheepishly. “Spider,” he said apologetically, scraping his foot across the floorboards. “I hate bugs. Of any kind.” He shuddered. Then shuddered again.

She tried to suppress a smile and had to look away at Sauren, who rolled his eyes at Louvel’s phobia.

The young waitress reappeared carrying their plates of ham and eggs while a young boy followed with the croissants. “Thank you,” Tiene said looking at the girl. She had been crying. Tiene glanced at Sauren, who simply shuffled the plates about until they were placed properly in front of himself and her. He ignored the girl completely.  His behaviour still flummoxed Tiene but she decided to say nothing. The girl smiled briefly at her, then left with the young boy scuffling closely behind. “Have you had breakfast?” Tiene asked Louvel.

He held up his glass. “On my seconds,” he said with a grin. It was as Tiene thought.  But again, she said nothing. It was not her place to pass judgement.

Pointing at Sauren with his glass, Louvel then asked Tiene, “So, what are you doing with the whipper-snapper here, Tiene?”

She glanced at Sauren to find him smirking at the rogue’s term and could not help but grin herself. “He is going to be my trainer,” she replied before taking a mouthful of delicious creamy herbed eggs.

Louvel stifled a laugh, which Sauren glared at. Dabbing his mouth on his napkin the platinum-haired guild leader cleared his throat then turned to Tiene. “I have a confession to make,” he said.

“And what is that?” she asked smiling.

“I have not been a trainer for the last three years, nor will  _I_ be your mentor. Since my father died, I became the commander of the guild. He had trained me for the eventuality. I oversee the running of the place. My employees will be your trainers.”

She stopped munching, and swallowed. “So you lied to me at the wedding?”

“ _Wedding_?” Louvel’s eyes widened, staring at Sauren. “But you aren't you ...?”

“It was a wedding in Ghostlands Brett and I were invited to,” Sauren replied hastily, frowning at Louvel. “That is where I first met Tiene. I was curious to see what my new recruit would be like.” He held Louvel’s stare, his eyes holding menace at bay. The eccentric black-haired rogue shrugged and took another swig of wine. “And I didn’t really lie, Tiene." Sauren continued as he turned his eyes to hers.  "I just understated the truth.”

She smirked. He was allowed that. Her attention turned back to Louvel. “So, am I to understand you have some link with royalty? From what Sauren hinted earlier.”

“Ahh, well that is a long story and one I prefer to keep to myself. No offense you understand. Must have some mystery, you know. But yes, there is blue blood in my veins.”

Sauren laughed. “Only from the copious amounts of brightsong wine you consume.”

At that, the whole company joined in the humour. They finished their breakfast amid small chit chat, the mood was light. She learned from Sauren, that Louvel was considered one of the finest rogues today and that was why he had wanted him to join the guild. But the blue blood refused time and again, stating that such an arrangement would be detrimental to his craft. He only carried out work which paid well and meant all the takings were for him. Even with a more than generous offer from Sauren, the eccentric rogue flatly refused. He could not be swayed.

It was apparent that Sauren actually had a lot of respect for this bizarre individual and there seemed to be a genuine camaraderie between them. There was the odd moment where they seemed to dance around unspoken secrets however, but that was fine with Tiene. Everyone needed some secrets.

Sauren threw some coins on the table to cover the cost of breakfast and even enough for another bottle of wine for Louvel, which was gratefully received.

As they stood to take their leave, the monocled rogue smiled up at Tiene. “Good luck young lady. I’m sure you will rise to dizzying heights. And should you ever care for an evening of wine and good banter, I am always in the vicinity.”

“Thank you Louvel. I will most  _definitely_ take that offer up sometime. It has been an absolute pleasure.”

He raised his glass as they exited the inn. He watched as they passed the window and blended into the medley of market day stalls in Capital City. She had seemed a nice lass. The guild she was in was undoubtedly about the best this side of the Great Sea. At least it was, when Sa’themar ran things.

Sauren was a likeable enough young man, but there was a side to him which Louvel could only guess at. A dark side. Exactly what he dabbled in he did not know, for Sauren was incredibly intelligent and cautious, but the cub was swept up by the power his position gave him and it seemed to make him want more. Always more.

In another area, news had leaked out about his, how could one put it – perversions of the flesh? It had cost a life or two certainly, but it was out there. He hoped for Tiene’s sake, she was not going to end up as one of his playthings. Not that all had complained, some apparently positively swooned about his ability in the bedroom, but Tiene had dignity and an impressive legacy in the blood of the Firefurys. It would be a crime for that to be tainted by a man’s insatiable carnal hunger.

Louvel Nottley, The Noble, would keep an ear to the ground and hope he never heard the sound of her world crashing around her feet.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Sauren and Tiene had spent another couple of hours exploring the city. He showed her the keep where King Terenas Menethil II ruled and his son Prince Arthas was trained by none other than Muradin Bronzebeard, brother of the dwarven king, Magni Bronzebeard. Names she had heard mention of, but never fully realised all the connections. Her life had been shielded in Quel’thalas, in Silvermoon. Politics and such like had never really intrigued her, but Sauren made learning these things sound interesting.

Sauren had delivered Tiene safely back to her quarters after she had bought some things in the markets. He smiled as she tried to conceal purchases of little pots of face paint the ladies favoured, and a bottle of scented water. Did she think he would disapprove, or laugh? Truth was he liked that she wanted to make the most of herself, even though she didn’t need it.

His mind, as always, when alone with a beautiful woman, strayed to his carnal needs. He was not sure if she was still intact or not, although he suspected she was. He couldn’t imagine that black haired elf she was with at the wedding had had time, nor probably the guts to bed her.

Sauren had deflowered many a young woman, but few he developed any further, they bored him after a while, with their pretend  _oohing_  and  _ahhing_. He was not stupid that he didn’t know when it was fake. The only woman who had been constant for him had been his wife. Such a pity she had proven to be barren. The practice had been mind-blowing, but his disappointment had been the stronger of the emotions and so she was discarded also.

So he played the field. Perhaps his disappointment had made him more brutal with some. He knew not, but he had interpreted the lack of an heir as shameful, in the eyes of his peers. It seemed to worsen when two women he had bedded then came forward saying they were carrying his seed. The thought of a bastard child angered him more. He swiftly had the women carted off to the surgeon whose hand he liberally painted in gold to alleviate the problem. After that, he was advised to have his “pets” drink an elixir prior to sex, which would prevent the need for such drastic measures. A renowned herbalist could easily supply him with the necessary and for a price, the business would be kept quiet. He had a constant supply brought in.

However, as far as his prize pet would be concerned, he would wait. No matter how frustrated he became. Tiene was going to be worth the wait.

As the night drew to a close, his needs peaked. The pageboy was sent, as usual, to the female dorms and told which one to bring. The young girl knew what was in store, and she smiled to her dorm mates as she quickly splashed a bit of scented water behind her ears and in more intimate areas, then painted on a bit lip balm.

She followed the page boy who hushed her as they ascended the stairs to Sauren’s rooms. The girl looked quickly to the door opposite, then was steered to the one the page boy opened. He ushered her inside, closing the door softly. She stood, heart beating, juices flowing as she caught sight of the naked, magnificence of the muscled Sauren approaching her. He moved with such confidence it was utterly erotic. Added to by the cloth bonds he held over his shoulder. He stopped in front of her, his hand sliding round her nightgown and clasping her buttock. She marvelled at the chest tattoo of a serpent writhing around a blade. She traced it with her fingers.

He grinned. “Evening Lexie,” he said in his dark raspy voice.

“Evening.  _Master_ ,” she cooed. He slapped her butt and pushed her towards his bed.


	16. A Day In The Life Of A Fledgling

* * *

 

The dining room was already filling with its first batch of Blade students and some of the trainers. Tiene looked for Lexie, the girl who had befriended her the first day she had arrived, but there was no sign of her yet. Fortunately for Tiene, some of the others who had joined in that day were there and shouted her over. She readily went to sit beside them. “Good morning everyone,” she smiled. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch all your names last time.”

“No worries,” said one of the boys,” you have more names to remember than us. We just have to remember one name, and yours isn’t exactly hard to recall. I’m Keeaen Redfeather, from Tranquillien.”

“Hello Keeaen,” Tiene smiled. It was good to have someone in the group who also came from Quel’thalas. He went on to introduce five others in the group. A human Zachery Alston from Stranglethorn, a couple of night elves, Thil’las Dawnflower, he came from Auberdine in Kalimdor along with Shenyssea Windswift from Darnassus. A dwarf Emmek Steelfall from Loch Modan and his cousin Tishleen Stonegem, she came from Thelsamar. That left Lexie of course, the other human in the group, wherever she was, but Tiene already knew her well enough, and she came from Lakeshire in the Redridge Mountains.

Tiene had to ask where some of the places were, and she was amazed by how far afield some of them had come from. It seemed this was a favoured guild indeed. They looked up as a rather tired looking Lexie appeared. She was adjusting a scarf round her neck and yawning as she approached the table. Tiene smiled at her and budged along on the bench to allow her to sit beside her.

A moment later, she noticed Sauren taking his seat at the centre table. His eyes were scanning the room. Once he found Tiene, he smiled warmly. She returned the smile.

Lexie noticed the gesture and looked glumly down at her plate. Tiene leaned down to see her face. “Are you alright, Lexie?” she asked.

“Yes. Just tired.”

“Didn’t you sleep well?”

Shenyssea and Tishleen tittered. Tiene looked at them questioningly. They then adopted straight faces. She turned back to Lexie. “Are you okay for training then?”

“I’m fine!”

Tiene backed off, Lexie had made it perfectly clear she wanted to be left alone. As the trays of food arrived at the tables for the students to help themselves, the others engaged Tiene in conversation. Five of them were new starts too, although they had arrived about a week before Tiene. Lexie, had been here about three months, Keeaen told her quietly, but she preferred to hang out with the newbies. “Truth is she’s struggling a bit with the training”, he whispered. But, he continued normally, Lexie had been a great help to them showing where things were and giving general advice on how to survive being a new member.

Seemed the friendship she had offered Tiene the other day was now exhausted, for she wasn’t for looking, let alone speaking to her today.

They would get their schedules once breakfast was over, but Lexie had told the others that first few days was making sure they were fit by having them perform various exercises, chores and obstacle courses. They had heard that some of the obstacles were a bit daunting, so they were slightly nervous. Tiene couldn’t wait to get started.

Brett walked in to the room, carrying a satchel.

Shenyssea was excited by this. “It is the mail,” she explained. “I should have a letter from home.”

Tiene was excited too, although she didn’t dare hope too much, considering she had only been here two days, well a day and a half really, but a surprise she got indeed, when not one, but two letters were handed to her. She recognised Inaris’ handwriting on one, and although the other was unfamiliar, she just knew it came from Camnath. She looked around and saw that everyone had something, everyone apart from Keeaen.

He could tell by her face that she felt bad for him. “Oh don’t worry about it Tiene, I got one yesterday. All’s good.”

She smiled. She didn’t know which to open first, but she opted for Camnath’s one.

_My sweet Tiene_

She subconsciously clasped her heart and sighed. Her companions noticed too, and all made a cooing sound. She blushed, then read on.

_I started to write this letter a week before you left, so that I would have everything marked down that I wanted to say, and so that I could send it to you as soon as you left for the Crimson Blade. I have re-written it a hundred times though, because I am just not very good at trying to say what I want to say to you. So please forgive me if this comes across a bit patchy, as it is written on different days._

A small smile crept over her face. She was oblivious that others were still watching. In particular a pair of dark brown eyes at the top table.

_I want you to know, that I was spell-bound by you from the first day I saw you. I do not possess courage when it comes to expressing how I feel and I know it took me some weeks to even speak to you, but I am so grateful that you did what you did that day in class as it gave me an excuse to talk to you. Not that I needed an excuse, I mean that....well, there I go already, babbling nonsense._

_I will try keep on track here. That day you were teaching me how to stealth, and I kissed you, I apologise if I acted clumsily, or offended you. I just so wanted to kiss you and thought it was the perfect time as no-one else would see. But, I felt I may have upset you, and so I am sorry. I did not mean to offend._

A feeling of sadness overcame her, that he felt he had offended her. She  _Aww’d_  under her breath and sniffed a little.

_I am so happy that you want me to go to Rhonin and Vereesa’s wedding with you. I was not expecting that. Your family are also so nice in allowing me to accompany you. I hope I do not embarrass you, or myself for that matter._

_I count down the days until you leave. Not because I want you gone, understand..._

She laughed lightly, imagining his panic at writing that in case he feared he had “offended” her again.

... _but because I am going to miss you so much. So very much indeed. I feel you are part of me Tiene, and if that sounds a bit cliché then so be it, but it is true. I talk about you all the time to Faealle, I am sure she runs to hide from me now, because you are all I talk about._

_It is now the night of the wedding and we have just returned from it. You looked absolutely beautiful, like a dream. I was so proud to be your partner for the evening. You most definitely outshone Vereesa._

_I was so mad however, when that damn (please excuse the language) Dar’khan interrupted us on the beach. I swear, one day... but enough of that, this letter is to convey my feelings of love for you, not of anger towards him._

She gasped. He felt love for her! She was so overcome, she felt her eyes welling up. She used the letter from Inaris to fan the tears away and continued reading. Shouts from the doorway announced that all new starts were to go gather in the courtyard near the stables. She looked up, then back at the letter, then up at the doorway again. She did not want to stop reading. Maybe she could squeeze just a few more words...

_I have some news of my own however, which I want you to know. Today I received a letter from..._

” _Firefury_! Move it!”

She looked up and the scary red-haired female trainer was glaring at her. Tiene swallowed, folded up Camnath’s letter and together with Inaris’ one, pressed them inside her tunic, next to her heart.

Sauren watched in silence as he chewed on a hot buttered croissant, the butter dribbling down his chin as he saw where she secreted the letters. He moaned then grabbed his napkin to dab his chin clean.  The entertainment was not over as he watched her scramble out from behind the table and headed towards the door. There, the trainer, Ylwen Sagescribe, stood glaring at the young blonde. He tilted his head to listen, as he heard Tiene’s voice pipe up. “If you don’t mind, my name is Tiene. I hate when people call me by my surname.” Then she marched past a very incensed if not slightly bemused trainer, out towards the courtyard.

Sauren laughed out loud, nearly choking on the last of his croissant. He coughed and took a drink. Seemed Louvel Nottley had quite an impact on the young woman yesterday. He smiled again at the nerve of her speaking to Ylwen in that manner. The red-head was a top-class trainer, but she terrified some of the students with her severe persona. Not so Tiene, it appeared.

His eyes crossed the room to Lexie, who was still seated, staring at him hotly. He could tell she was fuming at his focus being on Tiene. He sat back in his chair and continued the eye duelling. She tried to stare him out, but once his eyes darkened over she averted her gaze and followed the others outside, securing her scarf as she did so.

“Come on Melton!” Scary trainer shouted as Lexie ran out last. Tiene caught Ylwen’s eye, and dared a scowl. The red-head glared back. “Eyes front,  _Firefury_!” She smirked as she saw the trainee’s shoulders rise in a huff. Who her parents were mattered not to Ylwen, the girl was here to train the same as the rest of them, she would not afford her special treatment.

“Right then, all you fledglings. If you think this is going to be easy, or exciting or, Elune forbid,  _fun_ , then you are gravely mistaken. It is, for this morning at least, going to be hard work, dull and boring. This  _afternoon_  will be hard work, maybe not quite so dull or boring but by then your arms will think they have fallen off. Start cleaning the stables from top to bottom. I want them so clean that the horses have to wear blinkers to go in.” The result was predictable.

“Whit?”

“You’re kidding!”

“I want my dad’s money back!”

“Madoran’s beard! Ah dae this at hame!”

Except for - “Okay, let’s get to it,” Tiene said, sighing. In she went and picked up a pitch fork. Father warned her it would be tedious at times and involve things that it would probably take the rest of her life to work out its relevance. Ylwen was taken aback. The last one she thought would accept it, was the golden girl herself.

Tiene thought if she worked hard and got this over with she could then get back to reading her letters. She gagged a few times from the stench, but she managed to clean out all the used straw, and deposits, before she hauled fresh bales and started forking it out. She had cleaned all the stall sides, and then started on the brasses, leather girdles and saddles. The others kept complaining throughout the morning, but she just put her head down and got on with it. Then she filled the feeders, sorted the blankets for the horses and she was done. And boy! she stank! The others were still working away. Everybody wanted finished with the horrible task, so she went to help. Appreciative smiles were awarded her, all except Lexie, who shooed her away, saying she could manage.

“Have I done or said something to offend her?” she asked Tishleen.

“Huv ye no’ sussed it oot yet?”

“What?”

“She’s jealous o’ ye.”

Tiene looked at the dwarf female. “Why?”

Tishleen stopped what she was doing. “Well, yer a Firefury! Practically rogue royalty and ye’ve got a room next tae the boss man himsel’.”

“And royalty cleans up horse poop, right enough,” Tiene smirked.

Tishleen chortled. “Aye, yer feet are firmly on the ground ony’way, Tiene.”

“I’ll ask to be moved in with the girls then.”

” _Whit_?” Tishleen’s cousin Emmek piped up. “Dinnae be daft! Take a’ the perks when yer ge’in them, ah say. That’s whit ma pa says onyway, take the gid and cast oot the bad.”

“I don’t like her being upset with me though, she was so nice to me when I arrived.”

“Ah widnae let it worry ye. It’s hur problem, no’ yours.”

Tiene supposed they were right and with a shrug, continued helping her new friends.

Ylwen came in to inspect their work. “Not bad for fledglings’ first attempt,” she said.

“We have to do this  _again_?” Shenyssea groaned.

“Every day for a week,” Ylwen replied, grinning.

The company sagged, Tiene included. Lexie however, knew the drill, and she had been doing this for a few months now.

“Okay, now all go freshen up and change your clothes. Keep the clothes you have on just now though for tomorrows bailing out. We don’t want you stinking out the dining hall for lunch. Fifteen minutes to freshen up then down to the dining hall.”

It had been a quick morning at least, although exhausting. She was looking forward to freshening up. She ascended the stairs slowly, her limbs a little achy from the stable. Inside she peeled off her boots and her clothing, careful to put her letters on her bedside table, then went through and washed herself thoroughly. She felt better once she done that and went to get fresh clothing. Reckoning she still had a few minutes before she had to be back at the dining hall, she unfolded Camnath’s letter and continued from where she left off.

_I have some news of my own however, which I want you to know. Today I received a letter from a rogue guild in Kalimdor, the Sigil of Shadow. They have accepted me as one of their new recruits. I leave for Ashenvale day after tomorrow..._

That meant he was leaving the next day. Her heart sank. Kalimdor! Why could it not have at least been on the same continent? She felt disheartened, even more so as his words confirmed what she had been thinking.

... _The bad news about this of course, is that I may not always be home when you return for a visit. I did try for a couple of guilds in Eastern Kingdoms but they were both to capacity so, I have no option but to accept this one, Tiene. All I can say is, you will be in my thoughts and dreams every day and night._

_I will write you once I have arrived in Ashenvale._

_Take care of yourself my sweet lady and ... I love you._

_Camnath._

She felt the sting of tears. A knock came to her door. She folded the letter, and with a small sniff, she went to answer the door. Sauren stood in his black leather armour and a long cape. He smiled when she opened the door, but his face suddenly showed concern when he saw unshed tears.

“What is the matter Tiene?” he asked. Then he saw her clutching her letters. “Not bad news, is it?”

She swallowed and fought to keep the tears at bay. “Not as such. Not really, but, well...” she sighed. “Camnath is going to a guild over in Kalimdor.”

“Camnath?”

“The boy I was with at the wedding.”

“Oh! You and he are ...courting?” He cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

“Not officially no, but we are very fond of each other.” She found it odd that she could tell Sauren this so easily, but then he was being so nice to her.

“Well, I’m sure he will do well and he will write no doubt.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

He lifted her chin and wiped away the tear that threatened to fall. “Worry not Tiene, I will try make sure you two see other when possible. Let me know when he is going home, and hopefully we can arrange for you to go home at the same time. I cannot guarantee it, but we will try.”

She managed a smile. Sauren was very considerate.

“Now,” he leaned in whispering, “I better get you down to the dining hall before Ylwen has a fit. I myself am going away for a few days so thought I would say goodbye before I left.” He ushered her out the door and led the way downstairs.

“Anywhere special?” she asked, feeling a little better for having spoken to him.

“Just business, Tiene. Boring really, but needs must. I have assigned Brett to oversee things in my absence. ” He said his farewells again as they approached the dining hall, but suddenly turned back and said, “By the way, I have requested something to be left for you on my seat in the dining hall after you lunch.”

“Oh? What is it?” she asked.

“Later,Tiene. You will know when.” He winked and with a flash of those perfect teeth he then crossed the courtyard to the newly cleaned out stables. A beautiful black mustang was saddled up for him and he mounted it effortlessly.

He turned to one of his men and said, “Ah, the reliability of the rogue network!” He laughed quietly. “Good work, Don. He is having to go to Kalimdor. Definitely no distractions now.”

He turned and waved to Tiene who had reached the doors of the dining hall and was still watching him. She waved back, then clutching her letters, went in for lunch.

She approached the same table she had been seated at for breakfast and chanced a look where Sauren normally sat. He told her after lunch and she would know when. She shrugged and found her new friends at their usual spot. Lexie was still glaring at her. She sat down between Thil’las and Tishleen. Inaris’ letter took her attention while they were waiting on the food to be brought through.

_Baby sis_

_Trust this finds you in good mood and already leading the Crimson Blade._

She couldn’t help but smile. Inaris! Always one to jest and tease.

_I think you will be receiving a letter from lover boy soon too. He came over when we got home to check you had arrived safely. He really is smitten with you, Tiene. Just so you know, I approve. You have my permission to marry him and have lots of babies._

Again she smiled, almost laughed, had it not been tinged with a little sadness at the knowledge Camnath was going so far away.

_Nothing to report, just wanted to wish you well and say we all love you and you make us so proud._

_Inaris (whistles your favourite tune)_

A shadow loomed over them all. Brett came to enquire how they had all fared after this morning’s training. They all had their say, explaining how much were  _not_  looking forward to repeating the process over the next few days. He laughed and his chortle soon had them all laughing too.

All except Lexie. Brett noticed the girl’s sombre mood. He also knew the cause of it. He felt Tiene’s eyes on him. He smiled as he looked at her and in order to keep her inquisitive mind at bay he noticed the letters in her hand. “Family?” he enquired.

“Yes,” she replied, not mentioning the one from Camnath for fear she might cry. “Who do I ask for some parchment and a pen, Brett?”

He leaned down so the others did not hear. “There should be some in your room Tiene, but I will ask the maids to take some more up for you.” He did not like broadcasting the fact she was in the main tower next to Sauren’s rooms, even though he realised news would have spread round the grounds like wildfire by now.

“Thank you, Brett.”

“And a little advice,” he spoke to them all again, “don’t eat too heartily just now. You will be running around the grounds this afternoon and it will be a race, so you don’t want to end up with a stitch in your sides or throwing up.”

They all thanked him for the tip. All had a simple sandwich and a piece of fruit.

Once more they were called to the courtyard by scary lady, Ylwen. They waited as she made sure there was an even number then she stood in front of the group.

“Right, time for fun!” She looked around the group. Not one smile.  _Enthusiastic,_ she noted sarcastically. “Around the grounds are eight markers that have the Crimson Blade emblem on them, like so...” she displayed a small banner with the guild’s logo. “Four of the markers will be set on blue stands, the other four on red. The object of the game, obviously, is the first team to return all four emblems with the colour allocated to them and within forty-five minutes will be proclaimed the winners.”

“What’s the prize?” Zachery shouted.

” _Prize_?” Ylwen asked, amusement in her eyes.

“Yes! There is always a prize for winners,” he said.

“I would have thought it was obvious, Alston.” Scary trainer purred.

“Erm. No!” he replied, a bit uncertain.

She smiled, and Tiene could see the little fangs glistening as she did so. “The prize is, another two hours training with me before you finish for the day.”

The group all muffled their sniggers and grumbles.

“Erm, so... _no_  prize then?” Zachery wanted to clarify.

“Correct!” Ylwen said with finality. “You will be split into groups of four. This is also a test of how well you work together as a team.”

She drew an imaginary line between them. Tiene groaned inwardly as Lexie was in the same team as her. At least she had Emmek and Thil’las to count on. They were assigned the red emblems. “Good we have Lexie! She will know where the markers are,” Thil’las whispered to the other two team mates.

Lexie looked at him sideways. “They put them different places every time, stupid.”

“Oh!”

Tiene thought Lexie was very rude to the night elf, but at least she was speaking to him.

“Alright,” Ylwen called out. “After the first peel of the cathedral bells, you start. And remember you have forty-five minutes. Even if you do not find all by the time we sound the gong, you must return here.”

They all waited, each team ready for the off. The first peel of bells sounded and... eight bodies stood rigid. Emmek looked at Tiene, who in turn looked at Thil’las and Lexie. “A plan wid be a gid idea ah think,” the dwarf suggested.

“Yes.” Tiene looked around before looking back towards her team mates. No-one spoke. The other team had taken off towards the stables. Tiene doubted there would be an emblem there as they had just spent all morning cleaning it from top to bottom. “Okay,” she said, trying to sound as if she knew what to do. “Four emblems... four turrets. We split further in to two groups and search two turrets each.”

“They have done that before,” Lexie said, unimpressed.

Tiene was just pleased the girl spoke to her again, she didn’t care that it was a scathing response. “Maybe that’s how they want you to think, so you don’t get them so easily, no?”

Lexie shrugged.

“Well there isn’t really an awful lot of  _different_  places for them to hide them, considering this exercise will be repeated for all initiates. So maybe they have to resort some repetition.” Thil’las offered.

“Okay, then. Are we agreed?” Tiene asked.

“Aye, we ur,” Emmek agreed. “Ah’ll go wi’ Lexie.”

“Let’s do this!” Tiene said, and then they were off running. Thil’las and her taking the north turrets and the other two the south.

The plan paid off, both parties found one emblem each straight away, Thil’las’ got his on one of the small balconies, Lexie found hers right at the entrance to the turret next to a large chest. Tiene and Thil’las raced to the next turret and up the spiral stairs. Reaching the top, they were a bit deflated to find it had not resulted in the same good fortune. She glanced down and saw the blue team running towards the turret she and the night elf had just left. They carried no emblem, so that meant there was nothing in the stables. At least not a blue one. They would search the stables as a last resort. Looking across at the last turret she caught sight of another emblem. It was on the spire at the top. How on Azeroth were the team meant to get that, she wondered. She nudged Thil’las and pointed to it. He nodded. “We better get over there,” he said. Then he put his thumb and middle finger in his mouth and let out the most ear-piercing whistle. Tiene clamped her hands to her ears, shrinking down. “Sorry,” he said, then pointed over to the turret again. “They heard it though.”

“I think the whole of Capital City did, Thil’las,” she smiled. Looking across to their team mates they pointed to the emblem. They got the thumbs up from Emmek and Lexie, then descended the stairs. As they went down, the blue team came up. Tiene noticed they now had one emblem. Seemed the red team were faring better at least.

They raced out through the courtyard and into the turret where Emmek and Lexie were waiting at the top. As they reached the top step and onto balcony they heard a yell. They tore round and found Lexie pointing down. Emmek was swinging by his britches from an iron rod that protruded from just below the floor of the balcony.

“What are you doing down there?” Thil’las shouted.

“Well ahm no enjoyin’ the bloody view, that’s fer sure!” Emmek replied, obviously embarrassed.

“He insisted I give him a leg up onto the roof to get the emblem,” Lexie said, while trying to suppress a giggle. In one way, Tiene was happy to see Lexie more like her old self, but a tad distressed for the subject of her humour. “The daft wee bugger slipped and disappeared over the rail.” She glanced over the rail. He was still swinging in mid air. “Good job you got a big arse for such a wee man,” she shouted.

“Ah’ll big arse ye, ye cheeky mongrel!”

Lexie giggled. “Well how we going to get him back up? It’s not as if he can jump down, he’d kill himself.”

“Can you hold my feet?” Tiene asked.

“You’re not thinking of going over to get him are you?” Lexie said.

“Well we can’t leave him, Lexie. Team work remember.”

She shrugged. “Well don’t you end up suspended as well or we’ll end up with only one member left. Me!”

“And how do you come to that conclusion?” Thil’las asked.

“Cos you’ll go after her next, then that will be the three of you over the side, and there’s no damn way I’ll be trying to get you.”

“We could always just throw you over now!” Thil’las’ eyes darkened.

Lexie stepped back from the edge. Tiene was finding the whole situation highly amusing, but time was against them and she needed to get Emmek back up. She stepped over the rail, then putting her feet through the bottom of the rails, waited for Thil’las to grab hold of them. Once he assured her he had her, she let her weight pull her forward and she swung down. She was only an arm’s length from the dwarf. “Can you reach up Emmek?”

“Aye, but ah’m awfy hefty for a’ ah’m short, lass.”

“And I’m stronger than I look, so reach up.”

Emmek took a couple of attempts before he managed to lock hands with her. He was surprised by how strong a grip she had of him. “Now, you are going to have to climb up me Emmek.”

” _Whit_!”

“Climb up me.”

“But, that’s a bit, risky, lass.”

“For which one of you?” Lexie shouted down, laughing.

“You hawd yer wheesht, Lexie. ’Twas you that got me here in the furst place!”

“I beg your pardon, you insisted! Not my fault your chubby hands can’t hold on.”

“Well you had better be able to hold on this time Emmek,” Tiene said, starting to feel a bit woozy as blood rushed to her head. “Just climb! I don’t care where you grab me, just get up before I pass out!”

Emmek started his ascent, trying to be as gentlemanly as possible. As he reached her calves, Lexie bent over the rail and helped haul him up. “Daft bugger!” she scolded him. Thil’las told Lexie to take one of Tiene’s ankles and he would help pull her up with his spare hand. Tiene swung back and forth until she had enough momentum to pull herself up at the waist. The sudden change of direction made her nearly puke, but Thil’las was strong and he pulled her up and over the rail.

“Thank you,” Tiene gasped, starting to feel a little better. “Now, how we going to get that emblem?”

“Same way we tried before, but one of us that can keep a grip this time,” Lexie said. They all looked at the night elf. He agreed, and within a second he was lobbed onto the roof, scaling its apex and snatching the emblem. He carefully made his way down.

“Well done, Thil’las,” Tiene said. “How do you think we are doing for time?”

“Possibly ten minutes?”

“Let’s move then.”

The group ran down the stairs. They heard shouts from the courtyard. The blue team had only one emblem to get too.

“Ony ideas?” Emmek shouted down through the group.

“Library? It’s nearest anyway. Worth a look?” Lexie suggested.

“Two teams again then. We’ll check the dining hall as it’s next in line.”

“Okay!”

Tiene and Thil’las headed for the dining hall. They stopped at the door. The last lunch sitting was almost over, and the hall was emptying. Tiene looked around. The hall was huge.

Then she remembered. Could he have possibly given her the location of one of the emblems? She bounded up the two steps to the platform the top table sat on and swiftly moved along to the centre seat. As she pulled the chair out, there it was, along with a blue one.  _Oh, naughty boss!_  she smiled to herself. She grabbed the red one and ran back to Thil’las. “Give the others the signal Thil’las,” she said, holding up the emblem. Quick as a flash the night elf gave out his piercing whistle. Moments later, Lexie and Emmek arrived.

The blue team came running towards the dining hall. The red team ran across the courtyard to where Ylwen stood, waiting for them all to return. They had just made it and no more. They stood panting waiting for the end of the task and the blue team to arrive. Ylwen sounded the gong just as they appeared.

Ylwen smiled. She wasn’t so scary when she did that. “Well done all of you, especially you red team. You almost lost a member too...” she said eyeing the dwarf. “You worked well together though. Five minutes then, and then we’ll see how you fare at the dummies.”

The teams congratulated each other and plonked themselves down in the dry dirt, to catch breath.

Tiene looked at Lexie. The girl was talking to Emmek and did not see Tiene’s shocked expression to begin with, but she glanced round and caught Tiene staring at her neck. Her hand flew to her scarf and quickly she adjusted it.

“What happened?” Tiene asked.

“Nothing,” Lexie said.“I just have ... an allergic reaction to another one of my scarves, is all.” She looked away from Tiene and immediately engaged in conversation with the others.

Tiene wasn’t an expert on allergies, but she was pretty sure those marks on Lexie’s neck looked awfully like bruises in the shape of fingers. She thought it best not to press the matter as Lexie had been so dismissive about it, plus she was just back on speaking terms, so she didn’t want to lose that again. In time, perhaps.

Only a few minutes later and the group were shown to the training dummies, where, with wooden daggers, they were taken through various moves when attacking the enemy. It was pretty easy really as most of the moves, Tiene already knew, however, it was more a demonstration of how they performed having already done the stable task in the morning and having just ran round the grounds with a lot of climbing and in the reds case, a rescue mission. Their stamina was in question here. Their first day had involved more grafting than any of them were used to in one day, and their limbs were seriously feeling the effects.

After dinner, Tiene ascended the stairs to her rooms, shed her clothing and slipped under the luxurious throws on her bed. She just had time to kiss Camnath’s letter before she fell into a deep sleep.


	17. Proposition

* * *

 

The city of Dalaran was a feat in architecture of that there was no doubt. It’s opulent spires and domed buildings were the envy of many an architect throughout the kingdoms.

Tired of the restraints in their use of magic imposed upon them by the monarchs of the lands, the mages built the city as a haven for those who practiced the magic arts, in particular arcane. Built over leylines which enabled the mages and wizards to channel their powers more effectively, over time the city drew more like minded individuals from all over Azeroth.

It had been badly damaged during the second war by the Horde. Having provided huge amounts of support to the Alliance of Lordaeron during the war, builders were sent to aid the mages and sorcerers to rebuild the city. Its inhabitants and founders worked diligently alongside the masons and the construction of the city continued to arrive at what it was today. But it was not all muscle and brawn which rebuilt the city, after all, what was the use of magic if not to create something of beauty at least.

The ruling body in the city, The Kirin Tor, oversaw the use of magic and actively pursued the many sources located throughout the lands, taking great care to catalogue and store all finds. The Council of Six who were the High Council of the Kirin Tor would rule from the wondrous Chamber of Air. It was said they concealed their identities from all who appeared in front of them, keeping their supremacy absolute.

It was one of those Six that Sauren Nightflame and his two guards rode into the city to meet with. He would not be meeting him in the Chamber of Air however, so no mask would be worn by his host, besides they knew each other well. They were to go to a house on the east of the city, where the individual would await their arrival and then their business would be shielded from prying eyes and ears by a simple secrecy ward. Nothing unusual in that, it was expected even in a city made up mainly of wizard’s and mages, for individuals to have interests outside their magical pursuits, and keep them private.

Sauren dismounted with his usual flourish and drank in the calming violet hues of the city. His guards shouted over a young boy, asking him if he wanted to earn some silver for a few hours work. The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. They told him to look after their horses and see that they were fed and watered. The boy’s face lit up and he took the reins of all three mounts and led them to stables nearby.

The door of the house opened, and a man in purple and white robes came out to greet Sauren and his men. The man looked liked any other. Almost six foot tall, of a fairly medium build, just showing the beginnings of a slight paunch, he was relatively fit individual, for one who spent the bulk of his life bent over books, scrolls and maps. A well travelled man nonetheless he also bore the weather-beaten skin of one who had endured many different climates and environments. Medium brown hair in a floppy bob framed his bearded face out of which piercing blue eyes beheld the world with the arrogance of one who was all-knowing and experienced in the many forms of true magic. “Welcome, Sauren. It has been a while, although of course, my travels have been mainly to blame for that.”

“Indeed, old man, you were gone for quite a while. How fares the lands in the north?”

“Cold, my friend. Cold. Please, why don’t you come in and make yourself at home, our acquaintance shall not be long either I believe.”

Sauren gave a small bow of his head before entering the house ahead of the mage. His men followed closely behind.

Instantly they were portalled to another location. The mage certainly believed in total secrecy. They stepped into an extravagantly furnished room, with an enormous fireplace as it’s focal point, which a man could easily stand in. On two walls hung landscapes, no doubt of places where the mage travelled to over the years. A large decorative window graced the north wall, allowing subtle light into the opulent room. Behind them where they had entered, bookshelves lined the rest of the wall.

An enormous chandelier hung suspended in the centre of the room, its source of light, no doubt created by magic.

“I see you have been redecorating,” Sauren smiled as the mage passed him and strolled to a cabinet with bottles of wine and glasses laid out on a tray.

“Yes. Well, one has to use one’s wealth, Sauren, not store it away to collect dust.”

“It collects interest too, you are forgetting about that.”

“Hmph, the bank also takes it cut, Sauren.”

The Blade leader laughed lightly. “Everyone has to make a living.”

“I dare say.” The mage offered him a glass of wine and looked to him for permission to offer his men the same courtesy. Sauren nodded. The two guards thanked the mage and followed their leader towards sumptuous seating. Sauren of course, took the most prestigious of chairs, leaving his guards to sit behind him on simpler seats.

“Shall we wait for our friend, or do you wish to start?” the mage asked his guest as he took a seat on the couch across from leather clad rogue.

“I suggest we make a start. He will make his usual dramatic entrance no doubt when he is good and ready.”

“Very well. So , what is it you have come to offer, Sauren.”

“An opportunity,” Sauren said, taking a sip of his wine and savouring its flavour.

“In return for?”

“A guarantee that my guild will be unaffected when the time comes for you unleash your army.”

“My army? And what army would that be, Sauren?” The mage crossed his right knee with his left and also took a sip of wine.

“Come now, let us not play games here. Your journey to the wastes of Northrend were for a purpose, were they not? You held another meeting there if I am not mistaken.”

“Ah, your rogue network crosses many leagues my friend.”

Sauren smiled, his perfect teeth flashing.

“So, this opportunity then. What is it?” the older man asked.

“The Barov’s, you have heard of them?”

“Yes. The own lands, namely Brill, Tarren Mill and Southshore.”

“Quite,” Sauren nodded. He rose and strolled to the fireplace, running his slender fingers over the impressive carved mantle. He checked his tips as if inspecting for dust, then rubbing his fingers together he continued. “Now they have taken on Caer Darrow in the middle of Darrowmere Lake. They are currently restoring it following the Horde’s assault on the fortress during the war.”

The mage listened, wondering what relevance the Blade leader thought it bore to his needs.

Sauren took another sip and proceeded to answer the mage’s unspoken question. “Your interest in necromancy has met with disapproval from the Council of the Six, I believe?”

The mage nodded. His interest piqued.

“The Barov’s are, how shall we say.... _discontended_  with their lot and are looking to expand their assets. Beneath the fortress on the island is a complex maze once used as dungeons and quite frankly it would be a mammoth task even for the Barov’s to try and do anything with it, over and above the upper areas of the fortress.”

The mage sat forward. “Real estate then?”

The Blade leader nodded. “Would it not be the perfect location for a school in your favoured form of magic? And ... as you have already said, your wealth just collects dust.” The brown eyes flashed over the rim of his glass as he took another sip.

“And the Barov’s are looking for a buyer?”

“Indeed they are or perhaps to be more accurate, an investor.”

The mage stood and crossed over to the cabinet and picked up the bottle of wine, returning to Sauren, refilling his glass. “I would say then, Sauren, we have a deal.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “To real estate.”

Sauren mirrored the mage’s gesture. “To our deal, Kel’Thuzad.” He bowed.

The mage tilted his head, a sound having caught his attention. “Ah, our friend has arrived. One moment please.” He put down his glass and exited the room. A few moments later he re-entered and went to collect another glass, filling it with wine for his new guest.

“Well, hello gentlemen, what a quaint little gathering we have today,” a voice said from the doorway.

Sauren lifted his eyes to the doorway. “Hello again, Dar’Khan,” he said, a smirk on his face.

“Good afternoon,” the well dressed Magister replied. “I trust all is well with you, and your...new recruits, Sauren?”

The guild master took a deep breath. “Ah yes, I have a bone to pick with you about that.”

Dar’Khan accepted the glass given to him by his host. “Oh, I thought our ‘introduction’ at the wedding was very convincing actually?”

Sauren nodded in response. “It was. However, you did not do a very good job deterring the ebony haired boy. I had to use the network to ensure he would not become a problem.”

“Hmm, I did warn him not to get too cosy with her. Seems his urges must match yours, where she is concerned. Talking of which, how is our little Tiene...bedding in?”

Sauren laughed. “She will do well, but she needs time to bloom. I want her to be as good if not better than her parents in the skills of an assassin.”

“Change of tact for you, is it not? Do you mean to tell me your brain has travelled all the way up to your skull again?”

The guild leader glared at the Magister.

“Now gentlemen, let’s keep this civil,” Kel’Thuzad intervened. “Dar’Khan, Sauren has come to me with a very interesting proposal and one which I think will fit in perfectly with your search for more magic and power.”

“Oh, really? Then do tell. We all have our vices after all.”

Kel’Thuzad filled Dar’Khan in on discussions up to now, emphasising that they were still talking years for their plans to come to fruition. The Magister clucked his tongue. He was growing tired of always having to wait for recognition and more power to be awarded him. Kel’Thuzad assured him it was worth the wait, for the rewards at the end would surpass even the Magister’s expectations. Besides, he foresaw that the magister had quite a significant role to play if all went according to plan.

You did not hurry Ner’zhul, the Lich King, nor the Burning Legion.


	18. The Fall Of Death Trial

* * *

 

Training at the Crimson Blade continued in the same vein as the day one. As the first week drew to an end, every member of the team had shown more enthusiasm for the mundane as well as the more challenging tasks. Skill, stamina and ability had definitely improved.

It had been on the third day that Ylwen realised whichever team Tiene was in, it always won, she was never on the losing side. The trainer made a mental note to inform Sauren as he demanded reports on all his new students, paying particular attention to any that showed exceptional promise. Her original indifference towards Tiene had now changed to something akin to liking the girl. The blonde could be feisty, but she was focused and not afraid to get her hands dirty. Although Ylwen had not known the Firefurys personally, from what she had heard, the daughter was a credit to them. She just hoped this was a trait that would continue.

Some other students, particularly those higher in grade to the new starts, had been inclined to goad Tiene and sometimes her team mates. It was not so much because she was new, but because of who she was and the preferential treatment Sauren had bestowed on the girl, namely the more luxurious accommodation. She could understand in a way why he had done this, the name Firefury was, after all, revered amongst the rogue communities, but still, she thought he may not have quite thought it through as to the response the girl would get from fellow students. Having said that, the little Firefury seemed adept at handling herself and she gave as good as she got. There was no doubt though, there were individuals who would never warm to her, and take joy in any mishap that may come her way.

The evidence of that came in the sixth week of training. The top grade students helped trainers setting up an obstacle course within the courtyard for young trainees to test their agility and learn how to scale particular structures. It was one of the sessions most new starts dreaded, and aptly named ‘The Fall of Death Trial’. Safety nets were attached at various stages of the test. The height of some of the frames were indeed daunting. A keen sense of balance was required for this test as well as agility. It was considered a crucial part of the students training. Lexie knew only too well how awful this was. It was the one part of the training she had not yet managed to complete successfully and she knew this would be her third and final attempt. Failure this time meant she would be dismissed from the guild.

The trial was also witnessed by all in the guild and stacked seating was placed around the courtyard accordingly.

From above the courtyard, Sauren had been watching as the top graders erected the course. He stood on the upper walkway between turrets, leaning on the railguard. Brett approached from his right.

“Are we about ready?” he asked the burly rogue without looking at him.

“Yes, we are.” Brett replied.

“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing how Tiene does in this.”

“Hmm.”

The brown eyes turned on Brett. “Is there something bothering you, Brett?” he asked, his voice hinted a threatening undertone.

“It’s just that, this could be Lexie’s last chance,” he replied.

“Yes, and I have no doubt she will fail again.” Sauren replied dismissively, turning his attention back to the obstacle course.

“Sauren, the girl is good in every other task and skill, surely if this goes against her she can try again.”

The guild leader looked back at his right hand man. “She will be treated the same as all others who fail three times at this. No exceptions.”

The older rogue bit his tongue, but Sauren was no fool. He could see there was something on his mind. “And why do you care so much? Are you going soft in your old age?” He pushed himself back from the railing and turned to face the older man fully, taking a step closer.

Brett shook his head. But he was not convincing Sauren. “Come now, spit it out.”

Taking a deep breath he finally spoke up. “I know she is one of your ... night time girls.”

Sauren smirked. He knew the old man did not approve of his nocturnal habits. “And why would that concern you?”

“The girl is besotted with you. I am concerned that she may do something ... silly.”

Sauren’s eyes widened. “So, let me understand this - are you saying I should let her stay, waste her parents hard earned money, and my trainer’s time and effort, all because I bang her now and again?”

Brett had not meant that at all and internally fumed that Sauren twisted his meaning in such a fashion. However, the Blade’s leader, annoyingly, had a point too. The guild had never been lenient on any student who failed this test three times, granted there had only been a total of four - poor Lexie would be number five, if she failed. Of course, Lexie’s failure had not been his entire concern, and Sauren knew it. “I have known you since I was a boy, Brett, and you have never been one not to speak your mind, when it suited you at least. So come on, what is  _really_ bothering you?”

Another deep breath. “Who will you replace her with for your... ?” he faltered.

Sauren grinned, but still he looked menacing. “Try again.”

” _Teine_! Will it be Teine?”

Sauren circled his right hand man, he noticed how his posture stiffened, like he expected some type of retaliation. He laughed, deep within his chest. “She is not a child Brett, in case it has escaped your moral notice.”

“I am well aware of that Sauren,” Brett said hoarsely, instantly agitated.

Sauren moved back to the railings and leaned on them again, scanning the courtyard for any sign of her. There she was. Milling around with her team mates, waiting for the task to begin. The guild leader continued watching her, hungrily. “She is all woman, perfectly capable of giving ... and receiving pleasure.” He glanced over his shoulder at the older man and laughed. Brett’s face was somber with underlying scorn. “Do not worry, Brett. Your friend’s daughter is safe. She has amazing potential as an assassin and I do not want to digress from her training. Now go see when they are going to start. I shall be down to watch.”

Brett nodded with a smirk of relief, turned and left. 

Sauren continued to watch Tiene for a few moments. “Safe ... for now,” he mumbled to himself. Laughing lightly still, he then turned and went inside to get ready for the training to commence.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

First on the course was Shenyssea. She was lithe and sailed through the course relatively easily, with only one minor slip which she recovered from expertly. Her fellow night elf, Thil’las also performed brilliantly. It seemed to Tiene that night elves had a natural knack for throwing themselves around and scaling great heights without fear or trepidation.

Next up, Emmek. Tiene was worried for him and Tishleen. Compared to the elves of course, they were considerably shorter and a good bit chunkier. But she need not have worried, for they had their own ways of getting over things and she applauded their acrobatic abilities enthusiastically as each arrived safely at the end of the course.

Humans next. Lexie moved to the starting point first. She looked towards Tiene and her team mates. They gave her the thumbs up and cheered her on. She quickly looked at Sauren. He gave her the briefest of nods. She took a deep breath. First part of the course was a steady climb, which she managed perfectly. Then a jump to a platform, a very narrow platform at that. She bent her knees and propelled herself forward. A gasp from the spectators as she just caught the supporting rope and no more. She glanced down. There was a safety net at least. Still, she did not want to fall from this height.

Catching her breath, she steadied herself and shimmied along the platform to the next part. Here she had to jump again, to a section she had to then crawl through and up, before emerging on to another plank which pivotted on its centre. Balance was all important and you had to manoeuvre the plank to twist so you could quickly run across it to the opposite tier. And this was the one bit that had let her down on her last two attempts. Her nerves were starting to kick in. Quickly she glanced down to her team mates again. They were shouting words of encouragement. She allowed herself a moment to try collect her thoughts. If she failed here today, that was it, she was out of the guild. No future as a rogue, at least not with the Crimson Blade.

Furthermore, it meant no more nights with her leader. The one thing she ached for. Sauren had a rapacious carnal appetite, one she knew she had never had the monopoly for trying to sate. Out of the three lovers she had had in her life, he was by far, the most experienced and satisfying and she had been more than willing to participate in his little games.

But that last evening before training restarted, he had made it clear to her that their dalliances would be coming to an end. He wanted to focus on the Firefury girl and her training. She had objected of course saying there was no need to stop their nightly frolics for him to concentrate on Tiene’s training. He had seemed alright about that, until she added “Providing that is the only thing you plan on doing with Tiene.” That comment had resulted in his brutal ploughing of her that evening. He told her, one word per savage thrust as he held her by the throat, that what he planned for Tiene was none of her business. It had been the first time she had felt a tinge of fear. He had not called upon her to share his bed since.

She inadvertently put her hand to her throat. She had been off with her new friend the next morning, but as the day had progressed, she came to realise it wasn’t Tiene’s fault. Tiene had been nice to her and tried to help her that morning even though she had been unpleasant with Tiene to begin with. One thing was certain, the Firefury skills were indeed hereditary by what she had seen so far, and Tiene was a nice person, if a little hot-headed sometimes. But, she decided, whatever way this went today, she would confide in the blonde elf.

She moved on through the crawl space and emerged at the end of it, to climb up and face the pivoting plank. With one final haul upwards, she planted her feet then jumped to the plank. Again the spectators gasped and roared. Her hands waved frantically as she gained her balance. Her eyes found Sauren looking up. From this height she couldn’t read his face, but she almost felt he knew it was a foregone conclusion how this would fare.

She shifted her foot, readied herself for the leap. She moved forward, but her foot slipped and she felt herself losing the fight to remain balanced. Down she plummeted and bounced safely in one of the nets. The crowd ” _Awed”,_ but applauded her attempt. Trainers came to the edge of the net and told her to turn and swing down. She fought back the tears of disappointment and failure, then somersaulted off the net and headed straight for her dorm. She could not bear to look at her guild master.

Tiene wanted to speak with her, but Ylwen told her to stay put, she could see Lexie once her own turn was over.

Sauren watched Lexie as she disappeared to the girl’s dorm. He remained leaning on his fist. He knew she couldn’t do it. Her balance let her down every time. He glanced over to the remaining students in the team that Tiene was part of. After they were done, another two teams were up for the challenge. It could be a long day.

Next Zachery, who admittedly was a little more nervous now that Lexie had failed the task. However, he ascended to the starting point with shouts of encouragement. It seemed by all accounts once he was up, he found his confidence and all the doubts vanished. He jumped, balanced, crawled, swung on the ropes as required and landed at the finishing post with a flourish. He bowed to the spectators as they applauded him. He turned and bowed even to Sauren, who could not help but smile at the human’s show of triumph. He applauded him also.

Finally it was the high elves turn and Keeaen moved forward. Like his counterpart night elves, he had an agility and strength that seemed effortless. He did slip once but quickly regained his footing again and sailed home in the fastest time of the team. He was met with wild applause. He rejoined his team members who in turn congratulated him then turned their attention to Tiene, the last of their team to go.

She moved up to the starting point. The crowd hushed. All that was heard was the shouts of encouragement from her own team members. It was strangely unnerving.

Sauren’s eyes cast over the crowd. He sensed it too. They were all waiting with baited breath to see the Firefury complete the task. The silence in the courtyard lent an uncanny acoustic and he thought he heard a snigger from somewhere just across from where he sat. His eyes narrowed as he combed the students on the stacked seats. Nothing. He motioned for Brett and Don to close in. “Keep an eye on the seats across from us.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Not sure, maybe nothing, but keep watch.” The men stood back and instantly scanned the students across from them.

He looked up and saw Tiene ready to begin. She flitted across and up the first climb with ease. Across to the platform, half crouching half running. She was quick. Next she was through the crawl space and out onto the pivoted plank. She took a moment, but arms outstretched she nimbly crossed the plank and across to the next platform. Some of the crowd cheered. She thought she heard some  _boo_  as well. It was something she had not heard when any of the others had done course. She shook off the negativity and looked straight ahead. Three enormous poles at different levels and she had to jump on to each one to reach the next platform. First one. Second one. Third one. She made it!

Then something hit her on the side of her head. She raised her hand suddenly and it put her balance off. The crowd gasped. Some shouts were heard from below and she saw a couple of men running across the courtyard. She thought Brett was one of them. Her vision became blurry, then an overwhelming nausea hit her. Her fingers felt damp where she had clasped her hand to where she felt something hit her. She put them in front of her eyes, but she could hardly see, other than the colour of a bluey-green. Then the sting started. Her fingers went back to her head. She touched something long and thin protruding from her scalp. The ground came racing towards her, blocked only by a safety net, but she was slightly off centre from it.

Sauren was racing over to the net along with Ylwen and three other trainers. Tiene hit the net too close to the side and bounced right off then with a dull thud hit the dry dirt of the ground. Pain shot through her right arm and shoulder. She vaguely remembered seeing Sauren’s concerned face hovering over her, before blackness took her.


	19. Departures

* * *

 

Sounds, like noises filtered underwater, reached her ears. Voices. Familiar voices. Tiene’s eyes flickered open. The world was blurry, but she could make out two shapes close to her.

“Tiene! Can you hear me?”

She smiled although it felt like it took her an inordinately long time to do so. Inaris!

“She hears you. Just give her a moment or two.” Her father’s voice.

Her eyes finally focused and she saw her brother and father beside her. She automatically tried to lift her right arm. Sharp pain reminded her she had fallen from a great height. She had been lucky though, the safety net did break her fall. The ground unfortunately, not so helpful, broke her arm and dislocated her shoulder. Her arm and shoulder were strapped. Other than aches all down her right side, there seemed to be no further damage.

She scanned the room she was in. It looked like an infirmary. She knew there was one in the grounds, so it was safe to assume that’s where she was.

“Baby sis, you had us worried,” Inaris said, patting her left hand.

Her voice was a little slow and slurred. ” _You_  were worried? Think how I felt when I saw the ground rushing up to meet me,” she laughed but flinched at the pain it caused. “So, how are you here?”

“Sauren got word to us. We came as soon as we heard,” her father replied. “I believe you were going to come home for a couple of days? I honestly feel you would be best resting here until you feel a little better anyway.”

“But, Camnath is going home and Sauren arranged for...”

Inaris looked at her sorrowfully. “Change of plan I’m afraid Tiene. Camnath won’t be able to make it, his father let us know. He is working on a few missions. ”

Tiene was gutted at not seeing her beau, but then stunned by what Inaris had told her. ” _Missions_? So soon?”

“Aye, he apparently is excelling at everything, way beyond what the other students are at his level. I don’t think they are hugely important missions though, maybe more in line with field training just.”

“Even so!” Tiene had a little flush of envy, but it was short lived. “I knew he would be great.”

“Oh, are you talking about me?” the unmistakable gravelly voice of Sauren approached. Yathas and Inaris turned to greet him. Tiene smiled up at him.

“No, I was talking about...”

“Her sweetheart,” Inaris laughed. Tiene playfully punched his arm.

Sauren’s face remained impassive. “Oh, the boy from the wedding?”

“Camnath,” Tiene reminded him. “He is on missions already.”

“Ah. Well so will you be, once that arm heals in a few weeks. And I will be your mission partner on some of them.”

“Really?”

Sauren’s mouth curled at one corner. Her enthusiasm was most encouraging. “Really,” he confirmed.

“You must get completely better first though, Tiene,” her father said. “I know you, and your impatience leads you to doing things before you are ready.”

Tiene frowned. “Weeks though?”

Sauren agreed. “I will not take you Tiene ... unless you are one hundred percent fit and able.” He grinned.

Inaris eyes shifted in the direction of the guild leader. There could have been an innuendo in there if he had not known better.

“Listen to your guild leader,” Yathas said to his daughter, who still had a slight pout on her.

“Hi!” a female voice joined them now. Lexie. The girl looked a little uncertainly at Sauren, but soon adopted a smile for the others. Tiene was obviously happy to see her friend and beckoned her closer. Lexie moved in past Yathas and stood next to the top of Tiene’s hospital bed.

“Hi,” Inaris said. “And who might you be, young lady?”

Lexie blushed. She recognised Inaris from the first day Tiene arrived. “I’m Lexie,” she said, not daring to look at Sauren.

The guild master eyed her carefully. “Come to say your goodbyes, Lexie?” he said.

Inaris looked round at Sauren, then back at Lexie. “Oh, you’re leaving?”

Lexie sighed. “Yes. I don’t please the master anymore, so I have to go.” Her tone was slightly embittered.

Sauren’s eyes burned into her, but he kept his poise and decorum. “Sadly, Lexie did not make it through this afternoon’s trial. It was her third and last attempt. I have, however, ensured a glowing reference to all other guild masters who may be interested in taking Lexie on. We are, perhaps, more stringent in our methods than others. Lexie has however,  _exceptional_  skills, in  _many_  areas.”

Her eyes met his this time. She had not expected that. Even though he was done with her, he still showed her a courtesy she did not expect. She smiled wistfully. He returned the smile and afforded her a small nod.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, “shall we get some refreshments and let these ladies have their girl talk. We could discuss some more business perhaps, Yathas?” Tiene’s father nodded. “You can of course, see Tiene again, afterwards.”

Yathas kissed his daughter’s forehead and smiled at Lexie. “Nice to meet you Lexie. Good luck with whichever guild you enter into.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“The name is Yathas, my dear.”

She smiled a little embarrassed. Then Inaris also kissed his sister, on the cheek. “You didn’t tell me you had such a cute friend,” he said loud enough for Lexie to hear.

The girl blushed again. Tiene’s brother was cute too. “I’m Inaris, by the way,” he said looking at her.

“Shall we?” a little irritation in the guild leader’s voice spoiled the moment. Sauren led the way, Yathas and Inaris following.

Once the men were out of earshot, Tiene smiled and said to Lexie, “Ignore my brother, he is a terrible flirt. A ladies man.”

Lexie laughed although it was a little bitter sweet. “Is he now? I would never have guessed.”

The girls smiled at each other. “I’m so sorry to hear you are leaving, Lexie. I wish you could stay.” She was after all the first real female friend Tiene ever had.

Lexie sat on the edge of the bed, patting and stroking Tiene’s hand. She took a deep breath then looked at her friend. “There is something I need to tell you Tiene, and you may be shocked by what you hear.”

Tiene was taken aback. Lexie was so serious. “Okay,” she said, drawing the word out.

Lexie swallowed. This was not going to be easy. “Remember the day we started training, and I wore a scarf?”

Tiene nodded.

“I told you it was due to an allergy. Well, I lied.”

Tiene had gathered as much, but it still did not prepare her for what she was about to hear.

“It was Sauren,” Lexie said in a hushed voice.

” _What_?” Tiene’s eyes grew enormous. “He tried to strangle you? Why?”

Lexie, although dreading telling her friend the details, could not help but laugh a little at Tiene’s take on it. “Well, yes and no.”

“Lexie! I saw the marks. I gathered they were fingers. But, Sauren? Our leader?”

“I have been his lover for a good part of the time I have been here.” Lexie said quickly.

Tiene’s mouth fell open. Lexie closed it for her, smiling as she did so. “He plays rough, but he is... _was_  - amazing!”

Tiene’s cheeks flushed a little. Part of her wanted to hear, but the other part didn’t.

“I need to warn you Tiene,” Lexie continued. “He wants  _you_.”

Tiene flinched, the movement causing pain in her arm to flare up. She winced. “No, that is not possible. He knows my heart is for Camnath...”

“Wake up Tiene! Our leader is an alpha male with an insatiable appetite for sex. He has had many a young woman pass through his door, not just me. Have you not been woken in the night by sounds from across the hall?”

Tiene nodded. She had, and even peeked through her keyhole to see a figure clad in a sheet sneaking down the stairs. She now wondered if that figure had been Lexie. She didn’t ask.

Lexie looked at her. “And as for your heart, that is not the part of your anatomy he is interested in.”

” _No_! He can’t. He won’t...”

Lexie smiled and stroked Tiene’s hair, in an attempt to calm the blonde. “You are a Firefury. You show such promise as an assassin and will quite possibly best even your own parents, Tiene. I have seen it in you.  _Greatness_! Some individuals just shine, and you are one of those.”

Tiene was flattered that Lexie thought so highly of her, but the panic was still brewing under the surface.

“I believe Sauren will allow you to exceed in your abilities first and foremost, the fact you are a Firefury is also a large part of why he desires you. But you will, one day, mark my words, become his pet.”

Tiene was furiously shaking her head.

Lexie continued to smile, an odd, resigned but doleful smile. “Hear me now. Do  _not_  fear it, Tiene.” Her eyes became a little misty. “Once you see him, in all his magnificence, and feel him, you cannot resist. When he takes you, you will succumb to his charms. You will want him. You will want him again and again...”

Tiene shook her head and swatted away Lexie’s hand. “No! I will speak with my father...”

Her friend’s eyes hardened but did not lose their kindness. “No Tiene, you will not. You know why? Because you are a Firefury. You are driven by ambition to succeed. You will not want your father to know about this, and cause him worry. And what, Tiene, could he possibly do anyway? He is retired and for all he is a Firefury, he could not take down the mighty Sauren.”

“I can leave and join another guild.”

“Not for five years you can’t. That is the standard contract, a legal and binding document between your father and Sauren. Different if you fail like I did. Then and only then, will the contract be nullified, still at a high cost though. And  _you_ will not,  _cannot_ fail. Will you!”

Tiene could not believe what she was hearing. She had thought Sauren to be a gentleman. Okay, now and again there was a hint of something dark about him. It actually wasn’t the fact he had an unending line of lovers that bothered her, after all she had two brothers who also had reputations with the ladies. What worried her was Lexie’s conviction that the guild leader would come after her at some point. The only man she wanted to be with in that way, was Camnath.

Lexie had another point. As a Firefury, Crimson Blade meant something to her. It was in the blood and although the leadership had changed, what the guild stood for should not. Out of respect for her father and mother, both legends of the Blades, she would see this through. She would deal with the over-sexed leader if, and when, the unthinkable were to happen.

Lexie kissed her forehead and bade her farewell and good luck. She wished Lexie well and asked her to keep in touch. She promised she would.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

By the time Yathas and Inaris returned to check on her, Tiene was sleeping. Yathas needed to return home for work in the morning, but would return the next day. Inaris however decided to stay overnight so he could see his sister in the morning. Sauren offered him Tiene’s rooms which he gratefully accepted. Sauren also arranged for dinner to be taken to the rooms and Brett would be on call if he needed anything. The guild leader had business to attend.

Brett accompanied the warlock to Tiene’s rooms. Inaris was suitably impressed although he did find it strange such luxurious accommodation would be made available to a new recruit. He understood his family name was revered, but to put his sister in here? Was there something more to this he wondered. He asked Brett to join him for dinner. He liked the man and as he had a history with his parents, he was looking forward to getting to know him a little better. Brett said he would be honoured and would return shortly when dinner was ready.

Inaris looked about the rooms. They were indeed sumptuous. He sat on the bed and opened the cabinet. He spied the letters from himself and from Camnath. He swithered. He shouldn’t really. No, he would resist. It was private, between Tiene and Camnath. It would be very naughty of him he thought, as he unfolded one of the letters.

_Darling Tiene_

Aww, thought Inaris

_Things are going well here. The trainers and the recruits are all very nice. I think I may have ended up in a better guild than those I attempted to get into in the Eastern Kingdoms. Oddly enough, I hear they are taking on trainees again._

_Belaen Bloodmane, the guild master is so encouraging and actually a very funny man. I told him you were with the Crimson Blade. I’m afraid he does not seem too keen on your guild master for some reason. He says he is nothing like his father. I told him though, as long as he is good to my girl, that is all that matters._

Inaris smiled. Camnath was a very nice young man and most definitely in love with his sister. He was happy for Tiene.

_I long to see you, Tiene. Now that we seem to have passed that awkward stage – all thanks to your brother’s intervention the day you left_

Inaris blew on his finger tips and rubbed them on his robe, well pleased with himself.

–  _I was hoping we can perhaps take things a little further?_

Now would be a good time to fold the letter up and put it back...

_I would love to hold you close, cover you in kisses. I will not do anything you do not wish me to, but I hope ..._

A loud knock at the door had Inaris quickly refolding the letter and popping it back into the drawer. He leaped off the bed and answered the door. A young woman came in with a tray that had two covered platters, a bottle of wine and two glasses. She smiled at Inaris and moved into the room heading for the table near the window. Inaris offered to take the tray from her but she smiled and simply shook her head.

Inaris sat at the table, watching her as she placed first the cutlery, then the platters on either side of the table. She placed napkins down and then the glasses. She glanced at Inaris. He sat smiling at her, adopting his best smoulder. She giggled quietly, a blush creeping up from her neck.

“You’re very pretty,” Inaris said. “What’s your name?”

The woman smiled but did not answer, she merely continued with trying to open the wine bottle. “Please. Allow me,” Inaris said. He took the bottle and opened it with ease. He poured a little in the glass and offered it to her. She shook her head and backed away. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said, smiling. The woman looked alarmed. Inaris backed off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten or offend you.”

The woman looked at him and started to relax. She took a step closer.

“I am Tiene’s brother. My name is Inaris. I am only staying here tonight as Tiene is in the infirmary...”

“I know,” she said. “I mean, I know she is in the infirmary.”

“Ah. So you  _do_  speak,” he said with a smile.

“Yes,” she blushed. “My name is Ellariah.”

“I am very pleased to meet you, Ellariah.”

“And I you, but most people call me Ella.”

“I like that even better.”

The door opened and Brett walked in. Ella shrank back a little, head bowed. Inaris noted her reaction, he thought it strange.

“You can collect the dishes later, Ella. Thank you, and leave us for now please.”

The woman backed towards the door. She glanced once more at Inaris and smiled. He winked at her and he saw her blush once more before she quietly closed the door behind her.

“Are all the servants as frightened?” Inaris asked.

“Frightened?” Brett asked, pouring himself some wine and topping up Inaris’ glass. “Oh Ella? She’s not frightenend Inaris, she is merely respectful, and rather shy.”

“Really.”

Brett looked at the high elf. Handsome lad, and observant. Just like his father in his day. “Well, perhaps she is a little frightened. It’s not every day you brother gets hauled into the cells for shooting a dart at one of the young recruits.”

“Oh!” That explained it. Tiene’s attacker was Ella’s brother.

“She is worried about her job now.”

“And her brother no doubt.”

“No, not him. He was a little bastard, even to her.”

“Oh!” Inaris shook his head.  _Oh_  was all he seemed to be saying. “Poor woman.”

“Aye, she’s a nice lass. Come let’s eat.” They sat down and removed the covers of the platters. Inaris was well impressed. A generous helping of roast meats, sweet potatoes and carrots all dressed in a rich gravy.

“So what happened to her brother then?”

“That’s where Sauren is away to just now. The boy will be dealt with. Most likely ousted from the guild with notification to all guilds that he is not worthy of membership.”

“Is that done in the grounds?”

“No. Sauren has taken him somewhere outside. He is waiting for the boys family to come take him home. He didn’t want to do it here because of Ella.”

“So she has nothing to worry about, I mean with her job and all?”

“Nothing at all. She is well liked. She was worried about coming up with our meal though. She knew you would be here and I guess she thought you knew about her brother and may judge her because of it.”

“Is she...married? Courting?” Inaris asked.

Brett grinned. “Not another one,” he said quietly, hoping the young elf was at least a bit more respectful to women than his master was.

Inaris looked at him questioningly. “Another what?”

Brett froze. He had not meant that to come out loud. He tried to think quickly. “All the men like Ella,” he said. “But, no. She is not spoken for.”

“Ah. Good,” Inaris said with a smile. Brett merely smirked and continued eating.

Conversation revolved around Tiene’s training and progress so far. Inaris was not surprised to hear she had been doing well, he knew she had tremendous potential. Brett also spoke of the days when Yathas and Lina were in the guild and how things have changed since those days. He tread carefully though, he knew not to say too much at least not to a young elf whom he hardly knew really.

All in all, a pleasant evening was had by the two men, who polished off another bottle of wine after their meal.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

A short distance from Southshore, crumbled stone and broken wood littered the floor of an old farm building. Its roof only had a few splintered rafters remaining allowing the bright silvery rays of the full moon to filter into the circular room.

Two large black rats scurried around the debris squeaking and chattering to each other as they searched for a tasty morsel. One raised itself on its hind legs to sniff at a pair of leather boots which hung mere inches from the rubble covered floor, swaying slightly. The second rat was sent scurrying away in fear as the curious rodent was suddenly impaled and toppled over with one last agonising screech. A shadow fell over the vermin's corpse. Sauren bent down to retrieve his anelace from the twitching furry body. As he straightened, he grinned at the owner of the leather boots.  


A young man was suspended in chains looped from two wooden beams. His terrified eyes watched as the Crimson Blade's guild master cleaned his blade on the young man's shirt, smearing it with the rodent's blood. With wrists and ankles shackled, the steel links rattled as the boy trembled. A cloth wrap was tied around his mouth muffling any sound he made.  


Sauren’s henchmen, stood with hands clasped in front of them, quietly observing. The guild leader resumed his tour around the room, eyeing the boy, as he played with the sharpened anelace. The blade glinted in the moonlight, emphasizing the keenness of its edge; each flash from it causing the young man to flinch.  


Sauren stopped in front of the suspended figure. “Carus, isn’t it? Carus Lightstrider?” His brown eyes looked black in the soft rays of the moon.  


The young elf nodded. Fear widening his eyes.  


“Did you enjoy today’s trial, Carus?”  


The boy nodded.  


“Oh, you did?” Sauren’s voice was as sharp as the anelace.

The elf rapidly shook his head and a muffled sound of panic came from behind the cloth gag.  


“Hmm,” Sauren started to pace back and forth in front of the boy. “You showed promise, Carus. You were quite an adept assassin. However, you are strictly prohibited to use your skills on your fellow students. You do know this I take it?”  


The elf whimpered and nodded his head. Sauren continued pacing, kicking a small stone around as he did so. He looked up the young man. “And yet you shot a dart at the Firefury girl today. One you laced with a sedative. Am I to understand that the sedative was to somehow, lessen the pain when she hit the ground?” Sauren’s voice roared at him.  


The boy was frantically shaking his head, his eyes rolling in panic like a frightened horse.  


“So, it was to make her lose consciousness then, and therefore fall to her possible death?” His voice was more frightening when he reverted to a low growl.  


The young elf was trying to speak. Sauren stepped closer, his movement like lightning. The man flinched causing the chains to clatter. Sauren put his ear close to his mouth. “What was that?” He smirked as the elf tried to speak through the gag. He brought up the tip of the analace and pulled the gag down enough for the elf to be heard.  


“I – I’m sorry,” he stammered. “It was just a stupid prank. I won’t do anything like that again, I promise!” The gag was replaced.  


The guild leader sneered. “Oh, I know you won’t, Carus. By the way, your sister says hello.”  


Carus went rigid. Sauren tapped the tip of the blade to his lips and looked deep in thought. “Or did she say – goodbye?” The perfect teeth glinted in the moonlight. Carus had been warned about his behaviour towards his sister in the past. He had always bullied her since he was a child. He enjoyed humiliating her, tripping her up when she carried trays of food in the dining hall, or pushing her out of the way as he passed her in the halls and calling her demeaning names.  


Everyone liked her. Sauren liked the girl, not in the way he did others, but she had been a dutiful little housemaid and took great pride in her work. It mattered not to him what someone’s station was if they carried out their duties well. He admired hard work and dedication regardless. In Carus’ case however, his bullying trait had seriously crossed the line when he fired the dart at Tiene.  


The old rickety door to the building creaked open. Sauren smiled. His invitation had been accepted. “Good evening, Kel’Thuzad.”

“Sauren,” the mage replied, closing the door behind himself. He stepped in front of the chained figure, looking him over carefully. “So, what did he do?”  


The guild master sighed as if burdened with a hefty responsibility. “He almost killed one of my new trainees.”  


“Almost? Was it a duel?” Kel'thuzad guffawed.  


Sauren's eyes narrowed. “No. It was cowardice and the act of a bully.”  


Kel’Thuzad grunted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ah. Say no more, Sauren.”  


The platinum haired halfling crossed to the far side of the room close to his henchmen. “So, would he be useful for your – brand of magic?” He enquired of the mage.  


Carus flinched causing the chains to sing once more. His fear was escalating.  


The mage studied the chained figure before him. “Oh I think he would do nicely - except for one thing.” He stepped away from the terrified young man and crossed to where Sauren stood. Kel'thuzad then turned to face the elf again.  


“And that is?” Sauren enquired with a grin.  


“Well," the mage said with a dramatic hand gesture. "To use necromancy, one needs their victims - _dead_.”  


“Urg!” Carus’ words were muffled behind the gag. He struggled against his restraints and continued to mumble incoherent pleas; his eyes widening even more in panic.  


The guild leader smiled. With a speed not even his henchman could track, Sauren spun and threw the anelace at the suspended elf. The blade penetrated Carus’ skull knocking his body back, the chains clanking and clinking. A few moments later the young boy's head lobbed forward. With blade still embedded, his body stilled.  


Sauren slowly rubbed his hands together then grinned as he faced the mage. “Problem solved. Wouldn’t you say?”


	20. Visitors Come A-Calling

* * *

 

Two rather odd looking individuals approached the portcullis of the Crimson Blade. One, a priest, of frail stature but dressed well in purple robes. The other was a monocled aristocrat by all accounts. He had a flamboyant waistcoat which peeked out from under a well-tailored jacket. He pulled out a pocket watch, checking its time with a look of impatience on his face.

“What d’ye want?” a guard asked from behind the metal spars.

“We wish to see one of the recruits who was injured yesterday,” the little priest said.

“Name?”

“Tiene Firefury.”

“Not the recruit’s. Yours!”

The little priest laughed quietly, momentarily embarrassed by his mistake. The monocled individual rolled his eyes. “Just tell Sauren, Louvel Nottley is here,” he said gruffly.

The guard eyed the two of them suspiciously, but turned and shouted to another guard further back. He whispered in his ear and the second man took off across the courtyard.

Sauren was discussing training schedules with three of his trainers when the guard approached. He looked at the guard with irritation in his eyes until he was told about the men at the gate. A smile crept over his mouth and he moved towards the grounds entrance with long deliberate strides.

Louvel was standing looking at the wall, wondering how easy it would be to scale as Sauren neared. Fyn Godwin, the priest , watched the tall athletic figure approaching, his eyes growing larger by the second. This was a man who oozed power and charisma. The long platinum hair, plaits on one side bounced on the man’s shoulders as he strode confidently towards them. His clothing was everyday attire, but immaculately tailored, black pants tucked into knee length riding boots and a black shirt with billowing sleeves and tied loosely at the neck. As he stopped in front of them, Fyn noticed part of a tattoo peeking through the gap in the shirt’s neckline. The man’s smile was enigmatic with perfect teeth. “Gentlemen!” he said warmly in a gravelly voice.

Louvel raised an eyebrow which caused his monocle to fall out and dangle on its wiry strap over his colourful waistcoat. “Sauren. No, before you ask, I have  _not_  come to sign your charter nor join your guild, I am here to see the Firefury girl. I believe she was injured during one of your training bouts.”

“Ah,” Sauren smiled ruefully. “She will be most pleased to see you Louvel, but she is not at death’s door, there was no need to bring a priest.”

The little priest laughed. “No sir, I met the young lady some time ago when she visited Ravensholdt Manor. I was in town and met up with this rambunctious individual, whom I have known for a few years, and he told me she was here.”

Sauren laughed out loud. “Rambunctious? Louvel? I take it there was a little sarcasm in there priest?”

Fyn smiled guiltily. “I refer more to his clothing, sir.”

Louvel wedged the monocle back in place and grunted at the little priest. “Sometimes Fyn, I think you should have ran away with the Darkmoon Fayre instead of joining the priesthood, they have a shortage of comedians.”

Sauren nodded to the guard to let the visitors in. The small gate in the portcullis was unlocked, and Louvel and Fyn stepped into the grounds of the Crimson Blade. There was a tall complicated structure in the grounds with platforms and very high posts that seemed utterly terrifying to the little priest. He assumed it was this very structure that Tiene had fallen from. His little eyes widened at the mere thought of falling from such heights.

“So, priest, Fyn, was it? You are visiting Capital City?” Sauren asked the little holy man as he shuffled alongside.

“Don’t tell him your surname, the whipper-snapper will call you by it,” Louvel said to Fyn.

Sauren smirked. Fyn was a little aghast at Louvel’s reference to Sauren. The guild master read his expression. “Oh, do not mind Louvel, he has called me that since we were boys.”

Fyn smiled and nodded. “Erm, yes, I am visiting only, on my way to Stratholme actually. My brother is there at the moment and he has sustained an injury which, for some reason that still eludes me, he wishes me to tend to.”

“For a priest I would have thought it obvious why your help is required,” Sauren commented.

“Yes, but my brother and I are, sadly, estranged, and there are numerous priests available in Stratholme who could tend him.”

“Ah. Well, hopefully it may enable you both to build bridges,” Sauren said, his enigmatic smile flashing once more. He opened a large door. They were taken into the library. There Tiene sat, with a young man next to her. They were laughing together.

“Tiene!” Sauren called.

The blonde elf turned quickly, causing pain to shoot up her arm as she knocked it on the wing of the chair. She rubbed her arm, her brother also tried to soothe it. Her eyes were wide, unnerved. Sauren’s stride hitched. She seemed afraid of him, if he wasn’t mistaken. Perhaps it was the effects of the sedatives and memory of the horrific fall she had? Still, it made him feel a little troubled. He smiled to reassure her, then stepped aside and allowed her visitors to come forward. Her face instantly lit up.

“Fyn! Louvel! How lovely to see you both,” she tried to stand, but the effort was too much. Inaris settled her down again and stood to greet her visitors.

Sauren was no longer in the picture, her attention was fully on the priest and Louvel as she introduced them to her brother. The guild master sighed softly and left them to their own devices.

“I never expected to see you, for a very long time at least, Fyn, but I am so happy you’re here,” Tiene said.

“I was passing through, Tiene, when Louvel told me about your misfortune.”

“How do you two know each other then?” she asked.

“I found him injured once, a long time ago really. He was more mad about his coat being damaged, than he was about the gaping wound to his side,” Fyn smiled.

” _The_  coat?” she asked the aristocratic rogue.

Louvel nodded.

“I take the other guy wasn’t so fortunate then?”

Louvel grinned and shook his head.

Tiene explained to Inaris about Louvel’s coat and how precious it was to him. Fyn then asked how things were with her other brothers Duthan and Lor’themar. She was impressed that he remembered their names. Happily, she reported that it had turned out well, and they had come home safe and sound, although their duties did require them to return to the border. Her visitors then all sat down together and more in depth introductions were made.

Louvel had liked the girl when he first met her, and listening to her now, he knew why. She was sincere, her love of family was strong, her anchor. He glanced at her warlock brother. A fine looking lad who you could tell idolised his sister. The bond was enviable, touching.

Louvel suddenly had an overwhelming need to see his son, Lewis. He would be about fifteen now. It had been a couple of years since he last saw him. The nature of his work tended to take him long distances and many months away from home at a time. His poor suffering wife, an angel she was, kept the home fires burning. He would write now and again, when he had time, which wasn’t often. Admittedly, the wine sometimes got in the way of his corresponding regularly. But he did bank his profits so his family would not be without.

But, his son. Oh, he was a wondrous boy, so full of life, mischievous but studious and kind-hearted. Louvel pictured the little dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and his bright green eyes sparkling, just like his mama’s.

He smiled as he recalled Lewis running up to him as he returned from missions, and shouting “Mama! Pappy’s home!” before jumping into his father’s arms. Missions in the early days were always nearer home, so he was with his family regularly.

Days, they would spend, sitting under a tree in the orchard and Lewis would watch with wide eyes as Louvel carved little animals for him from branches that had fallen in high winds. He loved the little carvings Pappy made. He had a whole shelf of them in his bedroom – horses, griffins, dogs, cats, pigs, he loved them all.

Louvel’s fingers caressed the pocket watch in his waistcoat pocket. It held a little treasure in its lid, a small picture of his son. His pride and joy.

He was jolted from his reverie by a young woman standing beside him, staring at him, as if waiting for an answer. He looked at Inaris who also stared at him. The young elf smiled charismatically. “Ella is wondering if you would like a drink,” Inaris explained.

“Oh! I beg your pardon. I was a little distracted,” he gently tapped his pocket watch and considered a beverage. He wanted to write home today to announce he would be back soon. “I think I will have some tea, please,” he smiled at Ella.

“You? Tea?” Fyn gasped.

“Yes. Tea,” Louvel replied, tugging down his waistcoat and crossing his legs, resuming a lofty appearance, with his monocle firmly in place.

Fyn shook his head and sighed, then turned his attention back to Tiene. “Now then my dear,” he said, gently laying his hand on her bound right arm. “Has there been any priests to aid with your healing?”

Tiene smiled. “No, actually. Just the local surgeon and the Blades own first aid specialists.”

The little priest tutted. “Oh my, that will never do then. May I?” he said, his little eyes bright and hopeful.

Tiene smiled. “Of course you may, Fyn.” She looked at Inaris. “This may have me on missions quicker than everybody thought.” Then her smile slowly faded. She remembered Sauren said he would be accompanying her on her first few. Both Inaris and Fyn caught the change of expression.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Fyn asked, his hands hovering above her injured arm.

“Tiene?” Inaris was concerned.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. She had not meant to alarm anyone, particularly not Inaris. “Just slight nerves I guess for going on missions. I’m just excited, though nervous,” she managed a small smile.

Inaris nodded, though he was not entirely convinced. Still, he knew she was keen to continue with her training, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a little competitiveness had sprung up with Camnath on missions too. That should spice things up between them, he thought.

She looked at the priest, his little eyes sparkled. “Please. Carry on, Fyn.”

He nodded with a smile on his thin lips. He closed his eyes and chanted. 

A faint glow emanated from Fyn’s hands, growing in intensity as he repeated his chant until a bright aura surrounded Tiene’s arm and shoulder. It was beautiful!

Ella arrived with their drinks and gasped at what she saw. Inaris quickly moved to her side so she did not drop the tray she carried. She smiled and blushed a little at her ineptitude. His hand touched hers and she lowered her head as her blush deepened.

Fyn continued with the chant, and the aura started to change colour, it shimmered as it went from white to gold, then red to orange, blue to green then back to gold and finally white again. All the while Tiene had felt like a river of warmth flowing through not just her arm and shoulder, but her entire right side. It was soothing, relaxing and utterly spiritual. Then Fyn finished his chant and the aura slowly faded.

He smiled at Tiene. “Now my dear, try flex your fingers.”

Tiene did as he told her. There was only the slightest discomfort, where before it had been sharp pain. She automatically raised her whole arm, but that was being too ambitious. It still hurt, though not quite as severely, enough to make her wince. The little priest smiled wistfully. “I can ease suffering, but I do not do miracles I’m afraid. That gift is for others whose studies have progressed beyond the simple easing of pain.”

Tiene smiled and patted Fyn’s hand with her left one. “Well, it feels pretty miraculous to me, Fyn. I could not move it at all without breaking into a sweat before. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my dear, but do rest still. I would estimate a week, maybe two, maximum.”

“That’s  _much_  quicker than originally thought,” she said.

Inaris helped Ella handing out the drinks and some small nibbles for the company to enjoy. He asked her to join them, she declined, saying she had to work, but his kindness was appreciated. He watched her as she left the library, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Like that one do you lad?”

Ianris looked down at Louvel who sat with his cup of tea, pinky extended. Inaris laughed lightly. “Yes, I do actually. She seems very nice.”

“Who don’t you like?” Tiene said with a smirk.

Inaris leaned closer. “Well, that scary red-head of a trainer is a bit daunting,” he whispered.

“My daughter, you mean?” Louvel said, taking a sip of tea, watching the warlock over the rim of his cup.

Inaris never blushed, but on this occasion he did. Then Louvel laughed. “Oh, your face! I was joking. I have no idea who you are talking about.”

The whole company fell about laughing.

A couple of hours later, her visitors, including Inaris had to leave. Fyn and Louvel promised to visit again, if at all possible, and the aristocratic rogue reminded her he was often at the inn she dined at that first day, should she want to meet up sometime. She promised she would.

Inaris hugged her, careful not to hurt her right side. “Tell father he does not have to come this evening. I know it is a lot when he has so much work to see to. But tell him I love him.”

“I will, baby sis. I love you too. Now do as Fyn told you, and rest.” He glanced at the portrait of their parents then back at his sister. “They will watch over you from here too.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Tiene sat quietly in the library, reading. She jumped when Ella came up beside her. The maid apologised for startling her and continued to push a table in front of where Tiene sat. She looked questioningly at the housemaid. Ella quietly explained that she would bring her lunch through to her so she did not have to sit on the benches in the dining hall which were not as comfortable as the seating in the library. Tiene nodded. That was most considerate. Ella left to bring the food and Tiene buried her nose in her book again.

“Mind if I join you?” Sauren’s voice made her freeze. Her eyes flitted nervously from book, to table, to portrait, to the black riding boots to her right. She heard him sigh. “I take it from your silence that you do,” he said. She watched the boots turn.

She felt she was being rude and before she knew it, “No! I do not mind. Forgive me, I was just distracted, I guess.” The boots turned back then moved to the seat opposite her. Sauren sat. She swallowed as she watched his slender fingers lightly drumming the chair arms. She dared a glance at his face, then quickly looked away.

“Have I done something to offend you Tiene?” he asked quietly, his voice nonetheless, held a note of frustration.

“No.” She stared back at her book.

“Well, I have noticed that you are considerably different towards me today.” He shifted in his seat.

“Am I?”

Ella arrived with a tray and two platters. Tiene suppressed a nervous sigh. He had obviously been the one who arranged the luncheon to be held in the library. Ella placed the food and drinks then softly left the library.

They proceeded to remove the lids from the platters. Sauren watched Tiene closely. She was deliberately avoiding his gaze. “Is it something Lexie said?” he asked suddenly.

She dropped her fork. Her reaction gave him the answer he had expected. “I see,” he replied. His voice now sounded a little subdued.

Slowly, her eyes met his. She half expected his face to be contorted in disgust or loathing, but she was surprised to see regret. “I do not expect you to divulge all she told you, Tiene, but I can guess. I know how Lexie thought.”

Tiene said nothing. She picked up her fork and knife. She was struggling to cut the meat as she still did not have enough purchase in her right hand.

“Allow me,” Sauren offered. He leaned over and cut the chicken to small bite-size pieces. She thanked him in a whisper, then started to eat, slowly.

He sat back in his chair. “You obviously know she frequented my bed,” he said, watching her from under his lashes. Tiene nodded, her face reddening.

“And that my tastes are, shall we say, sometimes extreme?”

Again Tiene nodded, but she choked slightly on a bit of chicken. Sauren rose to assist but she quickly grabbed her glass and drank some water to wash the food down. Fortunately, it prevented an all out coughing fit. Sauren resumed his seat.

After a few moments agonising silence, he spoke again. “I appreciate you may be shocked by what she told you Tiene, I did not force her though. She was a willing participant.”

The subject was excruciatingly embarrassing. It was one thing listening in to her brothers as they discussed their carnal exploits over a few bottles of wine, but to have someone openly discuss their bedroom antics face to face with her was beyond uncomfortable. Especially when it was her guild leader, whom she had respected and admired on a professional level. “I know,” Tiene whispered, still unable to hold his gaze for long.

“You do not approve, I take it?” He leaned on the table.

She swallowed before answering. “It is not my place to pass judgement on your ... lifestyle, Sauren.”

“What else did she tell you then, Tiene? At least allow me to defend myself. If it is truth, I will admit it. But if it is a lie, do I not have a right to know what she said about me? I do not want our working relationship besmirched by a embittered individual.”

 _Should I tell him? Is it wise? What if he tells me something else I don’t want to hear?_  Such questions crowded her mind. Then again, the man had been nothing but nice and respectful to her up to now. She took a deep breath and nervously met his eyes. “She told me you would...” She shook her head and glanced away.

“Would what, Tiene?” his voice was gentle, filled with concern.

“She said you would want me that way too.” Her eyes lifted back up to his.

His mouth opened, eyes darkened. “Not another one! Why does she  _insist_ with this ...covetous behaviour?” He thumped his fist on the table, making Tiene jump and in turn wince from pain in her shoulder. “Oh, I am sorry Tiene. I did not mean to alarm you. Are you alright?” He leaned over.

Tiene clutched her arm, but her eyes did not leave his. Was she hearing properly? Lexie had done this before? Through jealousy? She nodded in answer to his concern. “She lied?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

Sauren looked straight at Tiene and took a deep breath. “Lexie was a possessive little thing and she did not like the thought that...” he glanced away from her for a moment. “Forgive me Tiene, but this is embarrassing.” His fingers rubbed together, then he gripped the arms of his chair. He was clearly agitated. “She did not like the thought that I lay with others. She wanted to be the only one. She managed to somehow deter my ... regulars, shall we say, and went out her way to ensure no-one else would become part of my night time activity.” With head lowered, resting chin on fist, his forefinger toyed with his bottom lip. The dark eyes studied his student from under stray platinum strands that had fallen over his face.

Tiene was stunned. She thought Lexie was genuine, but it seemed, by what Sauren was saying, that she just wanted to prevent him being with anyone else, even if she was not with him anymore.

Her silence was more than he could bear. Suddenly, he rose from the table, his food untouched. Tiene looked up at him, unable to speak. He inclined his head. “Excuse me, Tiene. This has been rather awkward and humiliating. I apologise that she made you so uncomfortable. And I seem to be guilty of that too now , so I will leave you be to enjoy the rest of your lunch. Good day.” He turned and left.

Tiene was stunned. Her leader’s abashment filled her with dismay. She had two brothers who were also extremely lively with the ladies, but it didn’t make them bad men. Inappropriate sometimes, perhaps. Rascals yes, but not wicked. Regardless, Sauren had opened up and confessed a side to him which quite frankly he did not have to. She moved a bit chicken around her plate and considered what had just been revealed to her. She decided then, she would not be so quick to listen to scorned lovers again.

Outside Sauren retook his seat for the final of the Fall of Death Trials which had been halted the previous day due to Tiene’s ‘accident’. His face was like thunder. He fumed for a few moments then beckoned his favoured henchmen, Don and Reed. They lowered their heads to their master.

“Find that little bitch Lexie and give her to Kel’Thuzad in the manner which he needs her.” They bowed and left immediately. Sauren then signalled for the trial to commence.

Brett crossed the courtyard to join Sauren as he caught sight of the two henchmen leaving the grounds on their mustangs.  _Where are they off to in such a hurry_ , he wondered.


	21. Team Work

* * *

 

Two weeks passed and Tiene was as good as new, her arm and shoulder having healed as if it had never been broken or dislocated in the first place. Fyn’s healing touch had certainly made a tremendous difference.

Communication between her and Sauren however, had not mended so easily. He was away mostly, but when he was in the grounds, although he was always polite and pleasant, it seemed strained somehow. He no longer snuck up on her and her group now and again, giving them frights or testing how long it took them to detect his presence. She missed that.

A couple of months further down the line and she regretted ever having been told what Lexie confided in her. Her so-called friend had not even kept in touch like she said she would. Further proof that her story had been nothing but an attempt to unsettle Tiene and undermine her opinion of Sauren.

Oddly, and she knew not why, she found herself lying awake some nights, listening to see if footsteps passed her door, or sighs and moans could be heard from across the hall. Daft, she supposed, considering he was mostly out of the grounds anyway.

Training continued with her team. They learned how to dodge and parry with super efficiency. The art of bluffing, which turned out to be great fun against each other often resulting in shrieks of laughter, but which Ylwen emphasised could be the difference between the giving or receiving of a death blow in the field. Agility was tested to the max, more obstacle courses although nothing like the Fall of Death Trial. Some of the agility tests were actually held outwith the grounds either in the woods, where the students learned how to shimmy up trees in the blink of an eye and use the surrounding flora for camouflage. Sometimes they even ventured into the city, scaling some of the buildings and crossing rooftops. The team worked well together and also on an individual basis.

They learned many new strikes. Tiene had her favourites. Exsanguinate, where you twisted your blades in your victim to make them bleed so much faster resulting in massive blood loss. Then Fan of Knives, she loved, especially when they were issued their collection of throwing knives which were stored in wrist, ankle and thigh wraps. Each little blade had its own slot and Tiene thought she looked very good with all that metal glinting on her. Well, she did until Ylwen pointed out that those little glints could give away their positions to the enemy, so camouflage was pertinent.

Tiene practiced and practiced with her little blades, even into the night when others were sleeping. Quite often she just sat in the middle of the courtyard, bathed in moonlight, thinking fondly and longingly of her beloved Camnath. She had to be honest, she was envious of him. His letters told her of the missions he had been on, well, as much as he was allowed to tell her. He had been on five now. Granted he said some were only small affairs, collecting documents and such, but still. So, she would end up sharpening and repeatedly throwing all her blades at the hapless target dummies, honing her skill and trying to cap her frustration.

Sometimes she thought of Sauren too. He was gone a lot of the time, but when he came back, he did not spend much time with the group or offer words of encouragement. All the praise came from the trainers. Which was good! But he was the one everyone wanted noticed by. His opinion was what mattered. She was sure he still avoided her because of that day in the library.

It was one night when she sat sharpening her blades and then throwing them at the dummies, that finally, things looked like they might get back on track.

“You are improving with those,” Sauren said from behind her. “Although, if you keep sharpening them after every other throw you will have no blades left.”

She turned. He was in full battle gear, bladed to the teeth; his long hair pulled back tight under a black bandanna, the full platinum locks hidden under a cloak. He looked – lethal.

“Thank you,” she said, continuing to sharpen a blade regardless. “I wasn’t aware you had noticed. You’re always away.” That had come out a little more bitterly than she'd intended.

He sat down beside her and clasped his hands over his knees.

She sighed. “On your way out again on  _another_  mission?”

“Yes. Soon.” His eyes scanned the training area, coming to rest on the tower where his and Tiene's rooms were housed.

“Good! I mean, good for you...” She groaned. It wasn’t coming out right at all. She sounded all huffy and petty. “I mean...”

“I know what you mean Tiene." He turned his attention back to her. "Look, I’m sorry for the way things have been. I do not want you disheartened. You are a formidable rogue, potentially one of the best assassins we have ever developed, and that includes your parents.”

She continued sharpening the throwing knives. “Doesn’t feel like it. Training has mostly been great but... ” She sighed again. “I know my father said there was a lot of training that was tedious maybe even boring - forgive me, I am not criticising your trainers, nor your schedules it’s just...”

He remained silent. It wasn’t an awkward silence neither, it was a polite one. He was waiting for her to finish saying her piece.

“I feel I am suffocating here. I want to get out, do missions. Like Camnath.”

His jaw tightened, but she didn’t see that. She threw a blade. It hit the dummy smack in the middle of the head.

His eyes stared at the blade. “I’m glad I didn’t approach you from the front,” he said, turning to her. She held his gaze, then looked at the blade in the dummy. Both started to laugh. It was good to laugh together again.

“I know you’re frustrated." He continued. "I promised to take you on missions once you were better, and I haven’t done so yet. I’d be annoyed too, if it was me.” Tiene grunted, the sound of the sharpening stone still active. He put his hand over hers to stop the furious honing of her blades.

She caught the slight glint of his teeth as he smiled at her. “Yes. Well...” She threw another blade. It shaved the edge of the first one, making the metal sing.

He raised his eyebrows. That shot was impressive. Deadly. “In two days, I will take you and your team on a mission. It will be just be a search and find one, but good practice for your skills in stealth and agility. After that, they will be regular.” He stood up and dusted down his britches.

“Promise?” She felt her spirits rise.

“Yes, I promise. You are past ready to be honest, especially going by that last throw.” He nodded towards the dummy. “We will make an excellent team, I promise you.”

She smiled. Things were looking better. Definitely.

“Good night, Tiene.” Before she could respond, he ran forward, scaled the walls of the courtyard and disappeared into the night.

“Show off!” she smiled. Gathering her blades, she made her way to her rooms and for the first time in a long time, had a relaxing sleep.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Next morning, she felt exhilarated, even more so when a letter arrived from Camnath. In it, he let her into a secret. He let her know that very few rogues practiced the magic form of stealth which she had mastered and had taught Camnath.

This had turned out to be extremely advantageous for him if infiltrating enemy rogue camps, as it literally made him undetectable by other rogues, unless they knew the same method, which was very rare indeed. The only snag was, any enemies who specialised in the art of magic,  _could_  detect you, as the magic had a certain pungency to spell-casters.

Tiene found this interesting. It was perhaps, something she herself should have realised, with Inaris being a warlock, it would explain how he had always had the upper hand when she engaged it. She made a mental note to use it if a mission so required. She had, wisely perhaps, never used it inside the Crimson Blade grounds, nor had she told anyone about it. She was now glad she had kept it secret. It could give her an edge sometime.

She was excited to tell her team about the pending mission and they were equally looking forward to it. It seemed to give them all a boost. They met their chores, tasks and studying with vigour the next couple of days.

Having just bathed after returning from the mission he had been on, Sauren leaned, shirtless, on the railings, above the courtyard. His eyes focused on Tiene like a cat followed a mouse. She was coming along very nicely. Her movements were lithe, fluent, swift. The strikes honed, potentially lethal but still needing a little fine tuning. His eyes checked out her team. Every one of them, massively improved and inclined to follow her lead, he noticed. “Interesting,” he said under his breath.

Brett stood silently to his right. The older man watched his master’s face. He didn’t so much hear him, as he saw him utter something. “Sorry, Sauren?” he said.

The half elf glanced quickly at his right hand man, then pointed down to the trainees. “Look, Brett. They follow her, they have elected her leader.”

Brett looked down into the courtyard. Sauren was right enough. The others did look to Tiene for leadership. No other teams had done this, they all just followed their trainers. He glanced back at Sauren. The man was obviously pleased by this development. “Tomorrow shall be good,” Sauren said, a smile on his lips.

Tishleen wiped her brow, the last bout of duelling had been quite ardous with Tiene. She was super quick and although Tishleen was also light on her feet, she had still been bested three out of four bouts with the blonde high elf. As she tugged back her hair that had adhered to the film of sweat on her face, she glanced up. “Oh my!” she gasped.

Tiene followed her gaze. Sauren stood watching them, shirtless, his skin with a fine sheen on it as if he had just stepped out of a bath tub. Tiene grinned at Tishleen as the dwarf started fanning herself. “Down, Tish,” she laughed. “You’ll give yourself an injury.”

Emmek looked up at what had caught his cousin’s attention. He made a sound of disgust and grumbled under his breath, “Harlot! Keep yer eyes off that half breed and focus on yer training.”

“Whae are ye callin’ a harlot!” she spat back, bristling as if she had feathers ruffled.

” _Him_! Rumour hus it he dips it in onything that walks past him withoot drawers on.”

“You had better not lose your britches on any iron poles again then, Emmek,” Thil’las said with a smirk as he came into the duelling arena to take on Tiene. The other team members tried to stifle their laughter.

“Och, ye dirty long-eared git,” Emmek growled, shuddering at the thought.

Laughter erupted from them all at that. Until they saw Ylwen scowling at them that was. The trainer glared at every team member until they all resumed a serious disposition and carried on with their training. She turned away after to look across the courtyard. She had found it difficult to stem her own laughter, but she daren’t let the trainees see that side of her.

Just before the duel began between her and Thil’las, Tiene’s eyes drifted up to the walkway once more. Their half naked leader had disappeared.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The following morning, the team were called into a room off from the library. One which none of them had been aware even existed. It was a relatively basic room, the walls all wooden panels and the flooring too, polished to a high quality sheen. A large heavy table sat at the top of the room, one or two chairs dotted against the walls nearby. The one time window had been blacked out, preventing any inquisitive eyes from looking in. Lighting in the room was afforded by four large free-standing oil-filled lanterns and an ornate chandelier.

Sauren was already waiting for them. He stood looking over something on the table as they approached the far end of the room. “Good morning,” he said without lifting his eyes.

“Morning, Guild Master,” they all replied.

He remained quiet, still studying what was in front of him, his long platinum hair brushing whatever it was that had his interest. The team stood, occasionally glancing at Tiene, wondering what was going on. She shrugged but indicated they all just look forward and wait.

Finally, Sauren spoke. “The Crimson Blade is approached by considerably wealthy clients who require certain tasks to be carried out. Their identities however, are strictly confidential and known only by the team leader or, obviously should there be no team involvement, the lone rogue.”

The group were riveted. “Tasks can range from finding war plans, blueprints for buildings, or weapons of war, artifacts of great value, some merely of sentimental value. Sometimes, it requires us to very discreetly, dispose of some, shall we say ...  _troublesome_  individuals.”

The team shifted on uneasy feet. All except Tiene. Sauren’s eyes peered at her from between his platinum plaits. She was focused. He lifted his head and looked out over the entire team. “An assassination however, is a very different operation from one where it is simply a case of kill or be killed. I hope you are all at least confident that you can do the latter?”

There was a hesitant nodding of heads. Sauren smiled. “It is also immeasurably easier to do, first time anyhow, if the potential killer is a creature, as opposed to a humanoid.”

He stepped out from behind the table. He was as Tiene had seen him the other night, in full battle gear. Black leather, hidden compartments with deadly blades and poisons as well as two ornate daggers sheathed at his hips. He was quite something to look at. Tiene suppressed a grin as she noted Tish’s eyes widen as he neared the team. His leather clad frame did not escape Shenyssea’s attention neither. Tiene rolled her eyes.

The guild leader carried on. “We are heading out to Deadwind Pass where we will encounter, amongst other things, spiders the likes of which most of you may not have seen before. They are large, ferocious and they simply will not stop coming at you until they are dead.”

“I hate spiders,” groaned Zachery.

The guild leader laughed menacingly. “Not as much as they will hate you, Zach.”

“I mean, they scare me.”

“Then I suggest you get over your fear boy, or you will end up as  _spider food_!” Brown eyes flashed at the human trainee. The whole group tensed.

“Y – yes, guild master,” Zach said feeling foolish.

“I take it we are not just killing spiders though, so what or who is our actual target?” Tiene asked, trying to take attention away from the embarrassed Zach.

Sauren turned to her. He smiled warmly. Astute as always. “What gave it away, Tiene?”

The team all turned to her. “The fact you were studying something on that table at length when we came in. Also, your introductory speech was way too detailed for us to simply go out bug-stomping.”

“Clever girl,” he said. He turned to the rest of the group. “Follow Tiene’s example, be observant, listen, assess. It’s not all slice and dice that makes you a good rogue.” He moved back behind the table. Leaning his palms on its surface he told them what they were going to be doing. “We will be trying to locate evidence of a library in the vicinity. It was believed to be destroyed when the boy wonder, Khadgar, defeated Medhiv, the last Guardian, during the First War.”

“We are looking for  _books_ , ten years after the library was declared destroyed?” Keeaen asked.

“Our client suspects it was not so much destroyed, as concealed.” Sauren explained further. “It will no doubt be guarded by magic wards, which we are not qualified to breach. But, if we find the location, our client will be able access it.”

“Warlocks and mages would be better at finding it then. Why waste rogues’ time on such a mission?” Keeaen asked.

Tiene thought it was impertinent of Keeaen, and she tensed, thinking he would be shouted at like Zach had been.

Sauren lowered his head as if deep in thought, then he raised it again and looked directly at Tiene. “Someone once implied that training could be tedious and boring, perhaps wondering what its purpose was at times...” Tiene’s mouth gave way to a small smirk. “Well,” he continued, looking back at the rest of the team. “it’s purpose is to hone your skills, prepare you for the future and keep you safe. That is why sometimes we do what may appear to be menial tasks and missions. But all have a purpose. All can shape our future.”

They all nodded.

“A portal awaits,” he said leading the way to the door. “Let’s get going. The place we go to is  _huge_ , a maze within a maze, it will be easy to lose each other, therefore we must stick together unless I direct you otherwise. The location by the way, is Karazhan.”


	22. Spiders, Spirits And An Old Man

* * *

 

They all stepped through a portal supplied by one of Sauren’s mage acquaintances and into Deadwind Pass. The portal snapped shut behind them and the team found themselves in a grey, dusty, environment where the wind whistled and moaned through craggy, crumbling, crevices. For all it was only mid morning, the place was eerily in the half dark. Sounds like children crying or indescribable creatures wailing sent shivers down the team’s spines.

Sauren led the way. They followed him closely. The tall towers that were Karazhan loomed ahead. The team kept moving forward, approaching large boulders on either side of the pass. Sauren slowed and stealthed, the team followed suit.

The sound of skittering feet on stone reached their ears. Tiene moved silently beside Zach and placed her hand over his mouth, his eyes bugged out as he saw one leg of an enormous arachnid appear from behind one of the boulders. Tiene held one of her mother’s daggers to her lips to shush Zach. She could feel the boy shaking behind her hand.

Sauren continued on round the boulder. The leg flinched. The guild leader halted, biding his time to assess how many spiders there were.

Tiene signalled to Thil’las to come keep Zach from having a panic attack. He did so. Tiene looked at Sauren. She pointed to the top of one of the boulders. He nodded. She moved silently and quickly.

Looking over the other side of the rock she counted how many spiders were there. Zach was not going to be happy. She turned and held up her hand, spreading her fingers. Five! Five huge, deadly looking spiders. Their articulated legs skittered as they sensed movement. Dark grey bodies with red diamond-shaped markings on their abdomens and between all of the five sections of each leg.

Tiene studied the ground around the boulders. Fine silk was strewn very carefully around the bases of the boulders and up over the dry wood of long dead trees. She signalled for the others to observe the ground around them and close in, apart from Thil’las and Zach who remained a good bit back from the boulders.

Shenyssea and Emmek ran up the opposite boulder while Keeaen and Tish moved in beside Sauren.

The first of the huge arachnids moved out from behind the boulder Tiene was on. It’s pedipalps moving up and down as its senses detected a potential meal in the shape of Sauren and the two team mates. It was quickly joined by another two.

It was now or never. Tiene and Sauren nodded to each other. She launched herself down landing on its cephalothorax, the forebody. The creature sagged from the impact and hissed. She drove her daggers in between the forebody and the abdomen and pulled them across separating the two parts of the spider’s body. The creature screeched and hissed, alerting the others.

Sauren somersaulted on top of another one, repeating the tactics Tiene had used, then he turned to jump to the next one, but on sensing it’s attacker, it reared up, fangs fully extended. Sauren dropped to the ground just as Tish ran under the huge carapace and slit it open all the way to its spinnerets.

The spider’s legs started thrashing on the ground as it screeched in pain, kicking Tish out from underneath, straight into the path of the fourth one skittering towards the group. Sauren quickly finished off the one Tish had injured and moved forward with Shenyssea.

Emmek jumped down onto the back of the approaching beast and sank his blades just behind its line of eyes. It reared making Emmek lose his balance and fall off, rolling across the ground towards Zach and Thil’las.

The spider raced towards him, its tarsus’ sounding on the stone, clickety-click, clickety-click , clickety-click . Emmek rolled out of the way, but the creature kept running forward.

Zach’s eyes were bulging, muffled screams behind Thil’las’ hand. The beast was nearing them at an alarming rate. Thil’las drew one of his throwing daggers and launched it with frightening force. The spider suddenly stopped, its front legs folding. The two team members watched as Tiene leaped towards them, landing on the spider’s abdomen and driving the final blade through its shiny carapace. It sounded like a giant egg being cracked and opened. Unfortunately to Zach’s horror, the contents of the spider oozed out and slithered towards his feet. He looked like he was dancing as he tried to dodge the spreading goo. The beast slumped completely.

The last dying screech echoed through the ravine as Keeaen ruptured the last of the giant arachnids then ran and kicked it with both feet, watching as it tumbled down the sheer drop behind the boulders.

Sauren straightened and checked over his team. “Well done,” he said genuinely pleased at their performance. He awarded them all with nods of approval. All except Zach, who shrank to the back of the group.

Sauren continued forward and the rest followed as he led them down a winding road towards the imposing Karazhan. Sky shadows, vulture-like birds, flapped and looped above them, unable to detect the group as they stealthed their way down. The road split into three. Directly ahead was an area known as The Vice, camp to lumbering ogres who were thankfully preoccupied with fighting the Deadwind Widows and Sky Terrors. Sauren nodded towards the right and the road doubled back on itself giving way to another steep incline. The last guardian’s unsettling towers and spires rose on their left. There was a definite chill in the air as they neared their destination. The road continued down and before too long the rogues were at the entrance of the daunting structure they had come to search.

The sounds of ghostly moans combined with the wind whistling through the graveyard and crypts nearby surrounded them and gave them a strong sense of foreboding.

Sauren looked up at the spire. Ravens circled cawing and swooping.

“Something wrong?” Tiene asked stepping nearer.

He looked down at her. He smiled reassurance. “Just ravens, Tiene. Nothing to worry about.” He signaled to the others. “Let’s go.” He moved up the steps to the heavy wooden door. With his shoulder against it, it opened with some resistance and a very loud creak that echoed through the entrance halls.

Once all inside, Sauren gathered them round in a tight group. Tiene jumped a little as she felt his hand on the small of her back, then smirked when she saw Tish grinning on his left - he had put his hand on her shoulder. “We are going upstairs here,” he told them, nodding towards the wide staircase. “This leads to the banquet hall.”

“Sounds delicious,” quipped Keeaen rubbing his belly.

Sauren scowled at him. “Warning!” The boy soon adopted a serious face. “You will likely come across a lot of restless spirits in this place, along with other magical beings. We need to get through them. Some we will have to dispatch, others we can skirt around.”

“Can we kill ghosts?” Zach asked.

“More really a case of dispersing them.” Sauren replied.

“What harm can a ghost do?” Tishleen asked.

“They can sap your energy, drain your life. These entities, while they have no physical form are still capable of killing you, albeit over time.”

They all nodded and followed their guild master up the stairs. Reaching the top, six mouths dropped open. Tiene giggled quietly and looked at Sauren. The room was filled with spirits, party-goers from years gone by it seemed. “Was Medivh in the habit of entertaining at home?” she whispered.

Sauren smirked. “I doubt it. He was a recluse in his later years I believe. I think the only live ones in here were his man-servant, Moroes, who he killed by the way, and latterly, his apprentice, Khadgar.”

“So where did all these come from?”

“I think the bulk of them are mere illusions to deter the likes of us. Others, they will be genuine spirits from the surrounding area.”

Harpsichord music suddenly started playing from deeper within the halls. The guild leader smiled as he surveyed the number of wandering souls. Some swept round the hall, dancing and making merry, while others converged in groups in deep conversation.

“Care to dance, Tiene?” Sauren asked.

She looked back into the halls and all the milling spirits. “Absolutely!” She grinned back.

Sauren signalled positions for the others around the corners of the first room. Everyone was in position in moments. “Ready?” he said to Tiene as he unsheathed both daggers.

She followed suit. “Lead on.”

He sprinted to the edge of the room, Tiene close behind. Then they flipped three times in perfect synchronicity to reach the centre. They spun round, blades extended slicing through the ephemeral beings as they came in droves towards the two assassins, like moths to flames. Death of illusions and spirits alike, created a chorus of ghostly sighs while their vaporous tendrils rose to the ceiling.

The other team members at the corners slashed the party-goers round the edges of the room, the ghostly forms imploding and exploding into dust and vapour. Hollow sounding wails followed every one that was dispersed. Within minutes, the room was emptied.

The group moved through to the next room and repeated the same line of attack. Thil’las and Shennysea jumped up onto the sprawling banquet tables kicking food that was decomposing, mouldy and maggot ridden. Expertly, they slashed their way through all the ghostly diners. Skeletal waiters rattled their way across the floor sounding like walking xylophones, to defend the guests, but were brought down by the combined efforts of the team. Bones skidded across the chequered flooring in all directions.

Applause sounded from a platform at the east facing wall. There stood four nobility, three men and a woman. But the creature in the centre was the one giving the applause. Black short, lank hair, eyes just as black and a skeletal frame. Moroes. The one-time man servant of the Guardian Medivh.

“Very entertaining,” the former man servant congratulated the team, eyeing Sauren in particular.

Sauren afforded the creature a bow. It laughed at him. “Oh please,” Moroes said. “No amount of nicities will get you past me and my colleagues. And I’m afraid the master simply does not have time for extra visitors today.”

“Your master is dead,” Sauren said. “As are you.”

“Think so, do you?”

The team gathered together at the bottom of the steps to the platform, Tiene remained a little behind them. Her hands were twitching, desperate to fight. The nobility above moved menacingly to the top step then desended as one to meet the team. Moroes made straight for Sauren.

Tiene saw her opportunity. She sprang forward and leaped. Her right foot used Sauren’s shoulder to propel her higher, then she somersaulted towards the skeletal manservant. Her left arm looped round his throat and as her body twisted she drove her dagger into the brain stem. She dropped to her feet in a crouch just as the others finished off the remaining nobility.

“Any more?” she said to Sauren. She was in her element. This was like a drug, every blow she delivered powering her more.

“Back the way we came,” he ordered the team. His voice was dark, ominous. “And through the far door up the ramp to the balcony.” The others turned obediently and made their way through the rooms as Sauren instructed.

Tiene was sweeping past him when suddenly he grabbed her by her upper arm and jerked her back. With his mouth, mere millimeters from hers he spoke a hoarse warning. “Do not lose sight that you are with your team,” he said. “This is not a point-scoring exercise for you alone.”

She shirked her arm free and glared at him. His mouth opened just enough for a flash of those perfect teeth, but in grim contrast, his eyes darkened. Instantly, she remembered her place and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” she said lowering her eyes. “I just want to do my best.”

Tilting his head, eyeing her intensely, he stepped closer. His voice was low and raspy, but no more threatening. “You did exceptionally well, Tiene, I am not criticising your moves. But,” he nodded in the direction of the others, ” they look up to you and not all of them can pull off what you just did there. Not yet at least - and they will try at some point. Do not let your ambition lead them to a fatal error.”

She nodded understanding and glanced up at him. He was not angry, though his words had been stern. She turned and joined her team, Sauren following.

They proceeded through the seemingly endless halls cutting down all that got in their way, until evenutually they found their way out onto a crumbling terrace. There Sauren looked up and saw a broken stairway ascending several floors up still.

“Oo ur gan the right wae urn’t oo?” Emmek said as he followed Sauren’s gaze.

“Aye, oo ur,” Sauren replied glancing down at the dwarf with a smile. Emmek smirked. He wasn’t used to the guild leader expressing a sense of humour. The rest of the group laughed lightly too.

Up they went, following Sauren and Tiene. They came across pillars leading into another room. Jaws dropped. Standing guard at the top of stairs were two creatures the team members had not come across before. They were made of smooth stone sections, humanoid in construction and hinged together by amethyst crystals. Their mobility definitely controlled by magic, probably arcane.

“Watchmen,” Sauren informed the team in a whisper. “I think we are getting very close to what we seek.”

“How do we deal with these?” Keeaen asked.

“We don’t,” Sauren replied. “We just move past them. Unless of course, they sense us then you just do what you have been trained to do.”

He heard a gulp behind him. He smirked then moved forward. They followed, single file, weaving between the watchmen. Keeaen and Tiene glanced at each other as they noticed mana wyrms floating above. They were similar to those back home, but these ones would attack given any provocation.

They followed quickly and quietly up a ramp, dodging another couple of watchmen as they climbed. Reaching the top, a landing and a turning to the left. Here they came across...nothing!

Sauren stopped, momentarily puzzled. Then realisation dawned on him. It was a ward of concealment.

“We’ve found it,” he whispered to the team.

“How can you tell?” Shenyssea asked.

At that very moment the light around them shimmered and before their very eyes another room appeared in front of them. The walls reached another two floors up and they were lined with hundreds, no, thousands of books. But even more extraordinary, was the figure coming towards them. An old man with a long white beard, nose buried in a book.

The rogues were still stealthed so none of them were unduly worried. He seemed a harmless enough looking old soul though.

“Good evening,” he said, lowering the book and looking straight at them. “More visitors on the hunt for knowledge?”

Tiene was a tad confused. He looked like an old man, but his voice was that of someone only a few years older than herself. His grey eyes also suggested a much younger man than his appearance conveyed. Unnerved a little, she moved behind Sauren and the rest of the team shifted behind her.

Sauren dropped his stealth. The others gasped but remained concealed.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said to the old man. “I am simply running my students through an exercise in stealth. We heard this was a good location to practice.”

The old man’s steel eyes looked at Sauren warily. With a wave of his hand the magic ward concealed the room again. Sauren’s eyes darted behind the old man taking in what he could before the concealment was complete.

“And has your exercise been what you expected?” he asked the guild leader.

Sauren nodded. “Indeed. However, I think we should be leaving now, I see we are interrupting you.”

“Oh, you’re not really interrupting me, I am just reading up on regeneration spells. Not having much luck though." The man sighed before continuing. "Perhaps I can portal you back to where you came from?”

“Oh, well if it is not too much trouble. Thank you, that would be most helpful.”

The team were peeking around their guild master watching as the old man started to conjure a portal.

“Where to?” he asked Sauren.

“Capital City, in Lordaeron.”

A portal opened. Sauren thanked the old man and ushered the team in through the watery green and blue hues. The old man laughed lightly. “I know you are there,” he said, his eyes following invisible shapes.

“How...?” Zach started.

“He telt ’im oo wur on an exercise, silly,” Tish replied.

“Oh! Of course.”

The whole team dropped their stealth and proceeded to step through the portal, nodding their thanks to the strange old man.

Tiene, still behind Sauren moved towards the portal. She wasn’t stepping through it until she was sure their guild leader was coming through too. Sauren looked questioningly at her, then understood she was concerned. He smiled reassuringly.

Turning back to the old man he conveyed his thanks again. The old man smiled. “Oh,” he said, just before Sauren and Tiene disappeared. “Do pass on my regards to Kel’Thuzad, it has been a while since I last saw him.”

Sauren flinched and his eyes turned sharply to the old man again. He knew there was no point in playing ignorant. “And who shall I say is asking?”

“Khadgar,” came the reply.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

As the months passed, Tiene and her team went on a number of missions. The ones with Sauren were normally fact finding, or searching for artifacts and other treasures. They had their share of danger and thrills however, enough to keep them on their toes and not assume that locating the merchandise was simply a case of going and collecting.

One thing that really did come out of the ventures was how synchronised Tiene and Sauren were becoming. They practiced more regularly, even late into the evening, Sauren relating to her how her parents executed moves. They would try replicate them, quite often ending up on their backsides or tripping each other up. Sometimes the other team members would join in too, with varying levels of success. Overall, the great team Sauren had promised her, was definitely coming together.

Other exercises which had Tiene as leader were competitive missions against other guilds. These were run regularly and done when Sauren was away on business. Tiene’s hope of one of those being against Camnath’s guild however, never came to fruition.

The more serious missions, ones that involved assassinations, the team were not ready for yet, nor would they be until about their fourth year.

She also visited home on quite a few occasions much to the delight of her family. Her father enjoyed listening to her tales of the training and the exercises and missions. She guessed it was all a bit nostalgic for him so took great time and care to fill him in on all the details.

Inaris and Duthan were still up to their tricks with the ladies. Seemed those two just weren’t for settling down. Although, she found out Ella and Inaris had started writing to one another. It seemed to be just on friendly terms however.

As for Lor’themar, his heart still beat for the Lady Liadrin. Tiene was disappointed to hear things had not really progressed for him there yet. He did take his time, that was for sure.

All in all, Tiene’s first year as a Crimson Blade had been the greatest thing ever as far as she was concerned, with only a couple of blots on the landscape, but they were in the past and not to be dwelled upon.

Now, she had something very exciting to look forward to as the year drew to a close. Great-Father Winter was upon them, and this year the rogues’ bi-annual event, The Gathering was being held at the Crimson Blade headquarters.

Distinguished guild leaders were invited along with three recruits of their choosing, usually those who were excelling at their craft. This year, Belaen Bloodbane of the Sigil of Shadows was attending with his top three recruits. And one of those, was Camnath.


	23. The Gathering

* * *

 

Every two years, representatives from many of the rogue guilds would meet for an evening of merriment known as The Gathering. It was held during Great-Father Winter holiday season so those few who did not leave the grounds to be with their families were welcome to attend. Tiene had chosen to stay, as Camnath had written to let her know he would be attending.

The evening would include duelling, for those so inclined, to show off their skills (no deaths had ever resulted from this form of entertainment during this bi-annual event), dancing, dining, drinking and general camaraderie. Having met some other guilds during her time with the Crimson Blade, albeit briefly, she was looking forward to mingling with others on a more social level. This year the event was to be held in Lordaeron at her guild’s grounds. It would be a major event in the rogue community.

Since her arrival in Lordaeron almost twelve months ago, her likeability had been determined from the outset as Sauren had insisted she be given the lavish quarters in the main turret close to where his own rooms were. He had explained the preferential treatment was a mark of respect for her family name and the legendary status her parents had been awarded from their time as Crimson Blades. As a direct result she had been subjected to some scorn, jealousy, and some indifference from a few of the students. One of which, had been shown the error of their ways a few months back, when they took things too far. Most however, had been amiable enough towards her and a small few had actually become her friends.

Her esteemed leader, Sauren, had been nothing but a gentleman. He had only ever treated Tiene nicely, though he did tease her relentlessly at times. Apart from joining her in some of her training bouts, he would sometimes sit with her in the library and they would discuss some of the books they liked to read. He would walk along the battlements with her, sometimes in silence, sometimes in deep conversation. He had also accompanied her on her first few missions. Nothing too serious, mainly grabbing plans for engines of war or orders in enemy camps. They got on well, and she felt comfortable again in his presence.

She had been wary of him for a brief time following a warning from Lexie,a one-time trainee and friend, so Tiene thought, who made out that the guild leader’s intentions towards Tiene was anything but honourable. It had resulted in the man opening up about his private life to her, in a bid to let her know that Lexie was a jealous, scorned lover and nothing more. Over time she came to accept that her friend’s words had been drawn from her own sadness at being torn from the arms of the man she was infatuated with. She did not think ill of Lexie, she was just a girl who felt love for a man with whom no future was viable.

Brett Hornsby was also very charming and nice to Tiene, protective really, which was probably due to the fact he was still good friends with her father. He, and others who had remained for years with the guild as trainers or advisors, had told her of some of the missions and ventures they had been on with her parents. Their  _Golden Days_  as they referred to them. Tiene was touched to hear them all speak so reverently of her mother and father and equally flattered that they saw the same potential in her.

She often caught Brett watching their leader with a wary look in his eye. He knew of his master’s late night dalliances, of that she was certain. Perhaps he had concerns for her safety in that area too. He really didn’t have to worry though, for Sauren had been nothing but charming. Besides those night time visitors seem to have stopped in recent months. She wasn’t silly though, they no doubt occurred elsewhere.

Tiene’s desire however, involved Camnath, no-one else, and she was so excited he was attending the night’s festivities. They had not seen each other for nearly a year. Their journeys home just never seemed to coincide no matter how much effort went into trying to arrange it. But, they had continued to write regularly. She wondered how he would look now, a year older. No doubt he would have changed slightly, just as she had. Perhaps he would be all toned with refined musculature and maybe even donned facial hair. Whatever, she had no doubt he would still be as handsome as ever.

The Sigil of Shadow worked out of Kalimdor, and this had quite a part to play in their never meeting up. Camnath’s letters told her he was doing very well in the guild however, and had already been commended for his skills and abilities. She knew he would do extremely well, he was a natural.

His letters also let her know his feelings for her. He still missed her terribly and often thought of the night they had danced and laughed at Rhonin and Vereesa’s wedding. She would smile as he  _always_  mentioned how annoyed he was when Dar’khan had interrupted them on the beach.

And then he would have those butterflies of hers rising and swarming in their millions as he would tell her how he wanted to make her his, to lay with her and love her. She would feel the most wonderful sensations in her lower abdomen as she imagined them together. She was a little concerned though, still being pure. She may disappoint him when the time came. She hoped not. He was all she wanted. She had decided she would give herself to him this night. It was to be his gift.

The splendid gown slipped over her head and the maid helped her by closing the tiny fastenings up the back of the bodice. It was exquisite, unlike anything she had ever owned. Black, with miniscule beads sewn into the bodice and more scattered randomly in the skirts. It shimmered when she moved and made the most amazing swooshing noise as she spun round, the skirts widening and swirling as she turned. All thanks to Sauren. He said it was his Great-Father Winter present to her. Tonight was going to be special, she just knew it.

Sauren exited his rooms just as a pageboy ran up to his door. “A letter sir,” the boy gasped. “Sorry sir, it got caught up with other things, hence the lateness of the delivery.”

He thanked the boy and shooed him away. He recognised the writing and smiled to himself. He opened it and read the contents. “Ah,” he said softly to himself. “Excellent! Just what I hoped for.” He folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope. He was putting it into his inside pocket when Tiene’s door opened.

He stopped at the sight of her. An involuntary gasp escaped his mouth. She was exquisite. He had always seen an elegance in her since the first time they had met, but now, in the black shimmering gown, she was utterly breath taking. Perfection, beyond compare.

“You are truly –  _stunning_ , Tiene,” he said, his voice a touch more gravelly than normal.

She smiled. There had been something in the way he’d looked at her. A glint in his deep brown eyes, which she had never seen before. For a moment, it made her blush. Compliments were few in the Crimson Blade, unless it was about your fighting technique.

“And you too!” she said looking him up and down in his silver grey attire. Silver embroidery decorated the cuffs and lapels of his three-quarter length jacket. His trousers were similarly adorned down the outside seams. The waistcoat, a slightly darker shade of grey, and embossed rather than embroidered. In stark contrast a deep maroon coloured cravat was tied neatly round his neck. “You look like a prince, and a very dashing one at that.”

He smiled at the compliment. It had been sincere and triggered something akin to warmth in an otherwise cold heart. “May I?” he asked, holding out his arm to escort her to the evening’s festivities. She accepted and together they descended the stairs and entered the grand hall.

A good three hundred plus guests were present and all applauded as Sauren and Tiene entered. She quickly pulled her arm away and stood with hands clasped in front of her as the leaders of the guilds came forward to pay tribute to Sauren. He introduced her as a most promising student and once her name was announced, they all greeted her warmly and with utmost respect. She glowed with pride as she now knew her parents’ reputation was indeed global, at least in rogue circles. She bowed her head in gratitude and welcome.

She felt someone arrive behind them. She glanced over her left shoulder to see Brett standing to attention in his finery. “Good evening, Tiene. Might I say how lovely you look this evening,”

She smiled. “Thank you Brett. You are very handsome yourself.” She heard him make a little grunt, which she interpreted as him being flattered. Her eyes continued to scan the room. So many people! But she sought only one pair of eyes. One ebony haired elf. One charismatic smile ... and there he was. Her face lit up.

Sauren, although still talking with another guild master, noted the look on her face. His eyes followed her gaze. It took him a moment to remember the elf from the wedding back in Ghostlands. So, there was still something between them. Something strong, going by the way she looked at him. A strange sensation tightened in his chest.

She glanced Sauren’s way and her smile faltered. He was aware his expression had caused her alarm, so he smiled and raised a quizzical eyebrow. She seemed to relax. His conversation ended, he turned to her. “Is that the young man you were at the wedding with? The one who went to Kalimdor? I cannot remember his name.” he said.

“Yes! Camnath,” she beamed, bouncing on her toes. She stopped herself. That was something she had not done in a long while. It was childish. Out of place.

Sauren nodded. “Well, ask him to come over.”

She did not need to be told twice and eagerly went over to bring him to the fore. She desperately wanted to throw her arms around his neck, but knew that would not be etiquette at such a gathering.

“Tiene! You look amazing!” he smiled broadly. Oh, his mouth was still so beautiful. He was  _all_  so handsome. Those pesky butterflies! She was sure they had just raised the corners of her smile higher.

“Come,” she said tugging his arm. “Sauren wants you to join us.”

” _Sauren_  does?” Camnath raised an eyebrow.

“You know fine what I mean, silly,” she was absolutely glowing.

“Yes, I know.” He patted her hand and they joined Sauren and Camnath’s guild master, Belaen Bloodbane who had just stepped up to speak with the Blade’s leader.

“Ah, Camnath, isn’t it? We met at Rhonin’s wedding,” Sauren offered his hand.

“Yes, that is correct. You remembered?” he shook Sauren’s hand.

“Well, I recalled your face but I admit I needed Tiene to remind me of your name.”

“Ah. Of course.”

There was something in the way Camnath said that which felt a little off. She looked at him, but he did not acknowledge her concern. Instead he listened to Sauren as he entered into conversation with Camnath’s guild master. Belaen spoke highly of his student, boasting how he had already won nearly every training duel and scenario, as well as having completed eight team missions and three solo, so far, and that was a tremendous achievement for one still relatively new.

“Impressive,” the leader of the Blade said. “Tiene is also excelling at her missions and duelling techniques. Perhaps we should have you duel each other in tonight’s contest.”

“It would be a shame to ruin such a pretty gown,” Camnath smiled, glancing at Tiene.

“I could have her remove it,” Sauren said. The manner in which he said did not go amiss on any of the present company. After a moment he added, “To be replaced by her armour,of course.” He smiled then laughed.

Belaen laughed too. Camnath simply grinned. Tiene shifted uncomfortably. Quite why she didn't know, but she had a hunch Sauren had done that for effect. And it had worked. Even Brett had seemed to flinch.

“Would you excuse us please. We have much to catch up on,” Camnath said putting his arm around Tiene’s waist.

The leader of the Blades looked at the elf with a dead pan expression. He held his gaze for a moment longer before a sly smile crept over his mouth. “But of course, you will have much to talk about. Off you go then.” He made a show of shooing them away. They turned and moved further into the great hall.

Sauren nodded at Brett. The man leaned closer to his master. “Keep an eye on them,” Sauren said. “And if they go upstairs, I want to know.  _Immediately_!”

Brett tried to conceal an irritated sigh. “Is there something you wish to say?” Sauren asked in a tone that expressly forbade the man to utter anything other than what he expected to hear.

“No, Sauren. Nothing.”

“Good. Now go do what I pay you to do.”

Brett did as he was told, but spying on young Teine and her beau did not sit well with him in the slightest. They were a nice young couple and seemed right for each other by what he could tell from that night at the wedding, which seemed a like a decade ago now, and from the way they looked at each other tonight. He had even seen her face as she sat huddled in the corner of the library reading letters of which he assumed Camnath was the author. The smile and look in her eyes could only be those held for a true love. It all reminded him a little of Yathas and Lina.

Certainly, he had been surprised, and immeasurably relieved that his esteemed leader had stayed his hand all this time. He could see the hunger in his eyes though, as he watched her during training from above the courtyard. That face, he concealed well from her during their little walks and talks. She was under the impression that Sauren was nothing more than a respectful, decent and fair leader. But Brett knew the day would come when she would witness the unmasking of Sauren Nightflame. And he had an inkling that day had just arrived.

The guild master, going by what Brett had overheard, and witnessed over the years, was not a man who simply enjoyed the pleasure of a woman’s warm and soft body as most men did. His tastes were somewhat, perverse. Brett had witnessed a look of almost fear on the faces of some who exited Sauren’s bedchamber in the wee small hours. Yet, it also appeared some of Sauren’s night time visitors, enjoyed his style of carnal pleasure and readily returned on following nights.

Now he was to report back if the young couple so much as made a move towards Tiene’s chamber. He did not want to stand in the way of love’s young dream. Yet, if he saw them heading up and did nothing, the result could be catastrophic for both the youngsters. Neither could Brett tell his friend Yathas that he knew his daughter was at risk. How could he possibly report that to the man who so many still spoke of with reverence and whose faith in the honour and dignity of the guild remained steadfast, enough to enrol his precious daughter, anyway.

Apart from Sauren’s treatment of women, there were other factors that made Brett start to question the leader’s true intentions for the guild. He had been attending secret meetings which even Brett, his right hand in the guild, had not been privy to nor actually advised of. It had only been by a chance snippet of information that he had been made aware of them at all. If there was nothing untoward, these meetings would not have even been taking place, of that Brett was certain. Sa’themar would never have meetings that did not include his trusted advisors. He knew one name who Sauren was conspiring with, but about what, and why, that was still undetermined. All that, however, would need to wait.

* * *

 

Camnath handed Tiene a glass of wine. They chinked glasses and took a sip. He swept a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, slowly tracing his fingertips over her cheek. She nudged against his touch. Just the barest of touches sent those butterflies soaring. “You really do look beautiful tonight,” he whispered. “Not that you didn’t always look that way, of course.”

She laughed. “And you! So handsome, and filled out I see,” she pinched his biceps.

He laughed lightly, ticklish from her touch . “A little, perhaps.” He studied her face. She was no longer the little girl who tried to evade his gaze because she was blushing, as she cleaned his face of grass stains. She was a fully blossomed woman with a body he would love to indulge in. He had planned to go about things the proper way. Although he knew she would agree, he nonetheless wanted to ask her face to face if he could request her father’s permission to court her. He would ask her later in the evening.

“I have a gift for you,” he said.

“Oh? What is it?” she enthused.

He reached into his jacket pocket. “I had to return home to get these for you as it is eternal spring in Quel’thalas. They may not survive long here though.” He presented a glass jar with a cloth top tied with a pliable vine which also looped to provide a handle for carrying the glass. Inside, three butterflies, their golden, crimson and azure wings beating lightly against the glass. “You always talk of your butterflies in your letters,” he said, smiling.

Tiene’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was so moved by his gift. “Oh, they are beautiful, Camnath. It is the most wonderful gift I have  _ever_ had.” She blushed a little. “I have a gift for you too, but later. In private. ” She reached out and traced her fingertips over his cheek.

He smiled back. He knew then her gift was what they had hinted at in their letters.

“Shall we dance?” she asked, sneaking a glance over his shoulder where the musicians had already attracted many couples to the dance floor.

“If you so wish, my lady,” he put their glasses on the table and led her through to next room.

Sauren, now mingling with his guests kept a close eye on the couple and also his right hand man, whom he suspected did not like the latest task given him.

The way Tiene had looked at Camnath irked him. A new emotion he was not accustomed to, was stirring in his blood. Jealousy. It was alien to him and left him confounded. All he knew was the need to control. Jealousy somehow suggested... he cared. He dismissed the notion and continued moving through the throng of guests, nodding politely and smiling where appropriate.

Now they were dancing. His eyes drifted over her, taking, in minute detail, exactly where the ebony haired elf had his hands placed. Nothing disrespectful or improper, just... irritating that he held her at all. What’s more, she was obviously enjoying being held by him. He noticed how the thumb and forefinger of her hand on his shoulder, played with strands of his hair that brushed down and over his collarbone. The way they smiled at one another, it was ... engaging.

He tore his eyes from them and focused on his hands. He had been inadvertently playing with his wedding band. He looked at it. Odd, why he never removed it. In a way he supposed he had, for he’d resorted to wearing it on his other hand; a sign the marriage was as good as dead. In fact, he knew it was definitely over the day he saw Tiene Firefury.

His brow creased slightly as he recalled the day of his wedding. It had been a glorious day, light and airy the sweet scent of summer blossom carrying on the gentle breeze, as the little flower girl scattered petals in front of the happy couple. It was perfect. Piper was beautiful too, in her soft white gown and satin slippers. Her chestnut hair had been braided with delicate flowers and bounced in soft ringlets over her shoulders. They had been happy. Oh, she was wonderful, in  _every_  way. For about three years, anyway. As time had went on and there was no sign of an heir, he became despondent. She refused to let him near her after that because failure to carry his child yet again, would be too great a sorrow, for them both.

So, even though his father voiced rigid disapproval, Sauren sought pleasure elsewhere. His disappointment and bitterness manifested in a slightly perverse form of carnal activity. Granted, he did not intend to brutalise women to the point of injury, but now and again, they did leave with marks. Some found his games a little alarming and avoided him at all costs. Others, were drawn like moths to a flame.

Eventually, as the marriage was no longer a proper union, he sent her packing back home to Darkshire, in Duskwood. Occasionally he would send for her to attend social events, where only couples were invited guests. She would be returned home after he ravished her, his bitterness still raw. He had not requested the attendance of Piper for any reason however, since Tiene’s arrival.

Yet through some inexplicable sense of decency, he chortled to himself at the term, he was reluctant to rid himself of the ring altogether. His dark brown eyes raised again, and staring from under his pale lashes, he sneered at the loving couple.

The night was a huge success, as was expected of anything the affluent leader of the Crimson Blade organised. The food, wine, dancing and entertainment had been met and enjoyed enthusiastically by all. The duelling contest was all that remained in the outer courtyard. The guests all gathered around the area ringed off for the contest. Wagers were being put on as combatants from each guild paired up and duelled.

Camnath and Tiene placed their bets and shouted support and encouragement to their own guild members. The set up and the rules reminded them of their early days in the Students of Shadow, when they spent a fair bit time cleaning paint off each other afterwards.

The Blades beat the Shadows easily. The victor’s leader grinned, as he watched them. Tiene was jumping up and down cheering, while Camnath hung his head in defeat. Then with a sly smile the young elf scooped Tiene up and kissed her on her mouth, deeply. She responded warmly, her arms round his neck. Then, as if they suddenly remembered where they were, they parted, soft smiles still playing on their lips.

Sauren’s grin had instantly disappeared. He clenched his fists. Enough!


	24. Unmasked

* * *

 

The night drew to an end and all the guest guilds were leaving. One or two stragglers were being gently shown the way out. Moving through the halls to check if any more were hiding anywhere, Brett and Sauren came across the young elves sitting closely together, near empty glasses of wine in their hands. Their lips were almost touching.

“I am afraid the evening is over,” Sauren announced, pinching his shirt cuffs then flexing his fingers.

The couple started at the sudden intrusion. Camnath put down his glass and stood. Bowing his head, he apologised but thanked Sauren for the evening and the opportunity to spend time with Tiene again. Camnath placed his arm around Tiene’s waist and gave her a wink.

Sauren’s mouth tightened at the intimacy. “I trust you got caught up in stories of home, family and whatever, then?”

“Yes, we did,” Camnath replied, still smiling at Tiene.

Brett shifted uneasily. He sensed tension in the air.

“Good! Then may I suggest you remove your arm from my intended.”

“What?” Camnath gasped. He did not move however. Tiene was equally stunned and her hand tightened around Camnath’s waist.

“I think you heard me clearly enough young man. You see, I have here – ” he held up the letter from his inside pocket, ” – a letter from Tiene’s father granting me permission to court her.”

“No!” Tiene said stepping forward. “That cannot be!” A sense of dread flowed over her.

“Oh, but it is.” Sauren held her gaze.

Camnath stepped forward. “You lie,” he growled.

“Do I? ” He held the letter close enough for the ebony-hair to see Yathas’ signature. Camnath’s shoulders slumped. “I  _assure_  you,” Sauren continued, “had I thought for one moment she still harboured feelings for you I would not have approached her father with my intentions.” He replaced the letter back in his pocket.

“We have been writing to each other since she arrived here and there was never  _any_  mention of this.” The young elf was angry but, at the same time aghast, still trying to come to terms with the letter from Yathas. He glanced at Brett, who stood with hands clasped in front. The older rogue frowned at him and gave the minimalist shake of his head, his eyes flicking towards his master. Camnath clenched his fists and shifted his weight on both feet.

“Ask yourself Camnath,” Sauren absentmindedly picked at an imaginary piece of fluff on his jacket sleeve, “how come I had to ask for a reminder of your name?” He glanced at the elf. The boy’s eyes dulled. “She does not speak of you. Surely, if she felt for you, she would at least speak your name.”

Camnath stopped. He turned to face Tiene. She stood, still in shock staring at Sauren. Her eyes turned and found his. “Tiene?” he whispered, looking for an explanation.

She swallowed, shaking her head at the allusion. It could not be possible what she was hearing. Why was Sauren being so mean? It was not that she chose not to speak of Camnath, it was that there was no-one she felt she  _could_  speak to about him, at least not in the way she wanted to. Yet, she could not find the words to explain this. She watched, with increasing pain as her ebony haired beau showed signs of doubting her.

Memories were starting to roll out across her vision of a girl sitting beside her on a hospital bed, warning her of what her future held. She had eventually come to think of them as merely vexations of the girl who was no longer part of the guild master’s life. She was having to re-think it all now.

“Her letters to you however, if you care to recall,” Sauren continued, enjoying the uncertainty in the elf’s face, “do mention  _my_  name. A lot!”

Tiene stepped forward now. Her shock amplified by this latest revelation. “You  _read_  my letters?”

Sauren merely smirked happy that he had deduced correctly.

She stood clenching and unclenching her fists, tears threatening both from anger and disbelief. She looked back at Camnath. His eyes were full of dubiety and hurt. He believed Sauren? “Camnath! He is  _lying_. It is not as he says... ” she pleaded.

” _Is_  he? He has a point Tiene. Your letters do always speak of him, yet I hear you do not even mention my name in the  _passing_? Now he has been given your father’s blessing.” His voice faltered. Then he whispered, more for her to hear than anyone else, “I thought you loved me.”

Camnath had never seen this coming. Her letters had always been so tender, so full of love for him, or so he had thought. Then again, they had not seen each other for a year and this, affluent man in front of him, was most definitely one who could offer the world to Tiene, and so much more. Camnath could not hope to compete with someone like him. He was foolish to have even thought he could.

Brett shifted uncomfortably. He hated this. The torture he saw in the young couple’s faces was agonising to watch. The letter Sauren had from Yathas was news to him. He could not understand how Yathas would agree to such a thing, especially without telling Tiene or even mentioning it to Brett himself, first. It did not sound like the man he knew. The man he called friend. Regardless, Sauren was cruel beyond words approaching the subject in this manner.

“Camnath! Please,” Tiene moved towards the ebony haired man, holding out her hand in desperation. “This is not happening!”

He stepped back. “Clearly, it is Tiene.” He looked at the guild leader who stood nodding his head in agreement. Then swallowing hard, he cleared his throat. “I hope you will both be very happy.” With one last agonising, tear-filled look at her, the young rogue turned and left the hall.

“No! Camnath.  _Please_...” her voice trailed off as she watched his back receding quickly from her view.

Sauren smirked with satisfaction. It had been easier than he thought. Turning his head to the side he hissed orders to Brett. “See he leaves the grounds as well.” Then he turned his eyes to Tiene, who had slumped to her knees on the floor, sobbing.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Camnath was wasting no time leaving the Crimson Blade. He strode quickly towards the stables for his horse, the last remaining.

Brett ran after the young elf. “Camnath!” he shouted after him. “Wait!”

The young elf ignored the man and vaulted onto his saddle, pulling the reins as he did so to steer the mount towards the portcullis.

“Camnath!” The man reached him before he could kick the horse into a gallop. Brett clasped the reins. “Do not believe him!” He gasped, slightly out of breath having tried to keep up with the younger man. “He  _is_  lying, I am sure of it.”

“I saw Yathas’ signature with my own eyes. Besides,  _why_ would he lie about it?” Camnath’s voice was hoarse from holding back the hurt he felt. His eyes held unshed tears.

“He covets her, but I do not believe that was permission from her father. I would know! Yathas is my friend. Hell,  _she_  would know! She is innocent in this, Camnath.”

“That still does not explain that she never mentions me. I talk about her  _all the time_.” The horse whinnied and jerked sideways. Camnath pulled on the reins to steady it.

“She has few in here that she can call true friends and confide such things though. Sauren seen to that by having her placed in chambers set aside for his ...” Bret stopped and lowered his eyes.

The elf cottoned on to the man’s hesitancy. “His  _what_?”

Brett sighed, knowing he had said too much already and that there was no turning back. “They were his wife’s quarters.”

” _Wife_? He is married?” Camnath’s eyes burned. “Hardly something that can be kept secret, surely!”

“Yes, but it has not been a proper marriage for years. She does not stay nor visit here anymore. He banished her when she did not produce an heir.”

“Then I will take Tiene with me...” Camanth turned the horse towards the main hall.

“No!” Brett raised his arms. “You cannot. She must stay according to the contract signed by her father.”

“She is of age to decide what  _she_  wants to do...”

“Yes, but a contract is still a contract. Sauren is no fool, Camnath. He knows what he is doing. She must stay here for a minimum of five years.”

Camnath leaned down. “Or  _what_!”

“Or, the cost to her family will be everything they own. And I mean,  _everything_.”

The young elf sat back up in the saddle digesting what he had just been told. He looked longingly at the hall, obviously torn between resueing Tiene or leaving the grounds. Then he looked back down at Brett. “I take it you are not overly impressed by your leader’s tactics.”

Brett lowered his eyes for a moment, then fixing the young elf’s stare spoke honestly. “I am only here still because of an oath I made to his father. There are however, a number of us who remained faithful to the old ways, and to the memories of Sa’themar and yes, even to Yathas and Lina.”

Camnath sensed there was more. “Go on.”

“We suspect Sauren is conspiring with some other agencies... I don’t know. We have not been able to discern all the facts yet. But we have heard of strange goings on in Caer Darrow. There is talk of a mage, a very  _high-up mage_ , from Dalaran being involved. Sauren was seen speaking with him on more than one of his outings he goes on now and again. But, what the meetings concern we do not yet know. We will find out however.”

The ebony-haired elf was obviously still feeling the pain from the last encounter with Sauren, and Brett was not sure if his words were meaning anything to the young man at all. “We have wished to overthrow Sauren for the last two years as we have some sources who suspect he is working against the greater good of the Alliance, but we cannot simply carry out a mutiny. There are too many loyal new bloods in these walls for us to overcome them. We would be wiped out in seconds. That could also mean danger to Tiene.”

Camnath regarded the man. He knew he was a good friend of Yathas and he seemed genuine enough. He also seemed very fond of Tiene. Inside he was still burning with hurt and anger, but he could not in his heart leave Tiene unprotected and possibly suffer consequences of some heinous plot or betrayal the Blade’s leader was drumming up. “I will speak with Belaen about this, but be rest assured if you are lying too, I will kill you all.”

Brett nodded, stepping back from the horse.

Camnath made to move out but one last thing made him look at the man again. “Protect Tiene, for I cannot.” Then he spurred his horse on, and the young elf left the grounds.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Sauren grabbed Tiene by the elbow and dragged her up the stairs to the private chambers. She had fought him to begin with, but her energy was sapped. An ample consumption of wine during the evening, the shocking end to the night and the crippling realisation that Lexie had indeed foresaw this, had left her drained. She scuffed her feet along as he pulled her towards his rooms. This was not how she thought she would react. Numb? She should be wrought with anger, tearing his hair out and ripping at his face. But she was a wreck. How could this be?

Slamming the door behind them and locking it, he pushed her into the room. His eyes were intense, burning with a fire she had never seen before. For the first time she was afraid of the man. “I am tired of waiting for you to  _notice_  me, Tiene!” He growled.

His words were utterly unexpected. ” _Notice_  you? What do you mean? I speak with you every day…” her voice trembled.

“Stop the childish pretence!” he shouted. “You know well enough what I mean.” Seeing the look of fear on her face caused him to falter. He had  _never_  wanted to scare her. His voice softened slightly and his stance relaxed. “I just want you to look at me the way you look at  _him_.”

Tiene could not believe what she was hearing. After the way he treated Camnath? After the way he was treating her now? ” _Never_ ,” she whispered. Trembling in the semi dark, she was a mere ghost of the refined lady she had been but hours before. Still desirable nonetheless. He would have her. One way or the other.

His eyes darkened. He moved towards her and grabbing her arm pulled her over to where a desk was located, documents and maps scattered over it. With a broad sweep of his arm he cleared its surface and spun her round to face him in front of the desk.

Her eyes were wide with shock as his hand moved to her throat. He pushed her down until her back was hard against the wooden surface. He fumbled at the side, opening a drawer where he took out a small phial of a lilac coloured liquid. He popped the cork and forcing her mouth open, he poured the contents down her throat. She spluttered but then he closed her mouth and she had no option but to swallow.

Her breath hitched as the handle of the glass jar with the butterflies split and it fell from her wrist. Her eyes closed, holding back the tears as she heard it smash against the floor. It spurred her on to fight. She clawed at Sauren’s hand, but it only made him tighten his grip. He was insanely strong. She felt his other hand pulling up the skirts of her dress, his legs tangled with hers, pushing them apart. Panic flared, her voice had all but disappeared yet still she tried to push him away even though her strength waned once more. Pathetic hoarse whispers of ” _No”_  were all that spilled from her mouth.

He reached under the skirts and tugged at her under garments, ripping them free. She tried to scream.  She managed a gurgle induced by the hold he still had on her throat. Tears welled as he touched her most private place.

From somewhere, far away, a voice reached out to her – “ _Learn to use your womanly charms Tiene, it may, in the future, be what saves you. You are more powerful than you realise.”_ Aledine!

The thought terrified her; but it was the only option available. All she could do was try to make it as bearable as possible. Even though her voice was strained from the grip on her throat, she finally managed more than inept whispers, “Please!! Sauren.  _Not_  like this! Allow me some dignity.”

His fevered eyes cooled and the grip on her throat loosened. Slowly, he stepped back. For a moment he looked almost like a tortured soul, having just discovered it was no longer part of the living world; trying to get its bearings. Slowly the pleasant, almost kindly face she recognised returned, the distorted veil having just been lifted.

Shakily she pushed herself up, her eyes flitting towards the door. His eyes darkened again, his intentions once more to the fore. In that moment, she knew she would not escape.

Trying to keep tears at bay, she then glanced at the bed. With her head hung low, she walked over, her breath hitching. Never had she felt so helpless and so at the mercy of another person. In her mind she called out to the one who no longer heard her. The one who took her heart with him. The one she still loved so desperately.  _Why, Camnath_?  _Why did you leave me?_

Her body trembled as she heard him approach her. She could hear him breathing. A raspy, hot breath ghosted on her shoulders and neck. She shuddered. Raising her hand to indicate the fastenings, she stammered, “Help me.”

She held her breath expecting him to rip the dress from her, but instead he started to undo the tiny buttons of the bodice then ran his hands softly between the fabric and her skin. He cupped her breasts and pulled her back against his hardened body. A moan of longing escaped his lips as he nuzzled against her ear. “Tiene,” he whispered. She shuddered, trying to block out what was happening to her.

The dress slipped from her body. Instinctively she brought her hands round to cover her modesty. He moved round to face her, pushing her arms gently by her sides. He started to remove his clothing, admiring her body as he did so. She caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his chest, a serpent wound around a dagger. She knew not where to look as he removed his trousers, so she scrunched her eyes shut. Slender fingers lifted her chin. Towering over her, his brown eyes were once more aflame. He cupped her jaw. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Why are you crying, Tiene? This is meant to be pleasurable.” The contrast between his soft tone and the earlier violent actions made this all the more frightening. She doubted very much being forced down by the throat and having your legs splayed against your will was what anyone could call remotely pleasurable. Not even Aledine would consider that so. “I wouldn’t know,” she replied.

His suspicions were confirmed. “So, I am your first?” he breathed, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

She nodded.

She heard him groan before his mouth closed over hers, tongue probing. She found herself pulled down onto the bed, pinned underneath him, his legs spreading hers wide once more, his fingers carressing her mound.

She was numb. It wasn’t happening and yet it was.

Sauren turned her face to look at him. “It will only hurt for a moment, Tiene.”

He drove into her, groaning as their bodies became one.

The physical pain was naught compared to the battering her emotions had taken. She closed herself down to the reality, her mind abandoning her body. She flew back in time to a see a handsome young elf whose face was smeared in grass stains. The one who stole a kiss in stealth from an innocent girl. It was the memory she had treasured above all.

Another tear escaped and traced down her cheek to the pillows. Both that boy and that girl were now gone, their images swirling and fading as they drifted out over a sea of yesterdays. His gift lay broken on the floor. Tiny wings beat erratically, sloping off to one side as slowly, her precious butterflies passed from this world to the next.

Just like her dreams, they too turned to dust…


	25. Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mature content, namely of a sexual nature. Read at your own discretion.

**__ **

**_Music: Wish You were Here - Blackmore's Night_ **

 

Camnath rode his steed hard all the way to Southshore where his guild had rooms at the inn for the night. They were due to head south-west to Menethil Harbour for the mid-morning boat to Theramore in Kalimdor.

His hurt and anger still burned deep. He could not come to terms that Tiene had not so much as mentioned him to anyone for almost a year. She must have had  _someone_  there who she could have spoken with surely, yet according to Brett, Sauren’s right hand, she had not. Sauren had cleverly engineered her ability to engage in close friendships by planting her in the rooms next to his own. For almost a year, Camnath had spoken about her, dreamed of her, written to her. Loved her. Tonight was going to have been their night, the time they would truly show each other how they felt. Or so he had hoped.

But now she was betrothed to the Crimson Blade guild master. That arrogant, son-of-a- naga who swaggered his way through the evening and took great joy in humiliating Camnath in front of Tiene.

Yet, according to Brett, Sauren was lying. He did not believe that Yathas would have agreed to his daughter being courted by the likes of Sauren. He had a point too when he said she herself would have known. Yathas surely  _would_  have let her know that he had received a proposal. They were such a close family. And, they were well aware that he, Camnath, had strong feelings for her and vice versa.

The more he thought about it, the more he blamed himself. He should have gone to her father first, and long before now. He had known, after all, many months ago, that she was the one he wanted to be with. If only he had acted sooner. Then at least, she would have no excuse not to at least mention him in front of people.  _Oh, why did that seem to hurt so much in particular?_ Did he consider it somehow a denial of her feelings? He knew his thinking was irrational, but perhaps that was what came to the fore when your heart was breaking.

Her letters had always said she loved him. She used to speak of the little butterflies swarming in her belly whenever she thought of him. He liked that. Choking back a sob he got angry with himself. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Tiene with Sauren holding, touching and kissing her. He could not seem to shake the image from his mind.

Then dread poured its cold contents over him. She had tried to tell him it was  _not_  true. What if the bastard  _had_  contrived the whole thing and was, in fact, forcing himself on her right now. Sweet Elune! He had left her to that fate.

Hurt. Pain. Anger and excruciating guilt washed over him. He did not know how many more emotions he could bear.

He reached the inn. Quickly dismounting and tethering his horse, he entered the building. The raucous laughter of Belaen was heard before he was seen. He sat with the other two Sigil of Shadow delegates next to the hearth, downing more ale. One of the lads nudged him when they saw Camnath walk in. Belaen turned, his broad beaming smile faltering instantly when he saw the young elf’s face. He turned to his recruits and whispered, then rose up and approached Camnath. “Come on, lad. Let’s walk.”

They left the inn and turned left to stroll down by the small pier. “So, what happened, Cam. I thought you and young Tiene...”

The elf folded, fighting to keep control of his dignity. He clung to the barrier at the pier, staring out over the sea. Belaen gave him time, a fatherly hand resting on his shoulder. The lad was struggling though. Belaen could guess what had happened, partly due to information he had been privy to during the evening. As the silence drew out, Belaen took the lead. “The bastard has her, doesn’t he?” he said.

“Aye,” was all Camnath could manage.

“I’m truly sorry, lad. Really I am. Perhaps things will somehow... oh I don’t know, Cam. I can’t possibly imagine what you’re feeling right now.”

“Everything!” Camnath said in a huge sigh. “Anger. Hate. Pain...Guilt.”

“Guilt?” The last admission took the guild leader by surprise.

“I just left her there, Belaen! I was so hurt that she had never mentioned me to anyone in a year! How  _stupid_  is that?" He gulped back his pain. "It’s hardly important considering the situation I’ve left her in with that - that ...”

 

“Devious little half-breed,” Belaen finished. “The cold hard fact is though lad, if you  _had_  tried to do anything, he would have killed you, maybe even hurt Tiene as well.”

Camnath punched the railing. “I should have tried ...”

“No, Cam. You are good, don’t get me wrong, but he is superior and I’m sorry to say, probably always will be. That is no defamation to you, lad. Merely a fact.”

The ebony haired elf shook his head, dejected. “Why couldn’t I see it coming? She mentions  _him_ in her letters all the time...”

“Of course she does, Cam. He’s her guild master, part of her everyday routine basically. That does not mean she felt anything for him. Do you mention me when you write to her?”

Camnath lowered his head. “Yes, but...”

“Yes, but bugger all, lad. It means absolutely nothing. And quite frankly Cam, the only person she  _needs_  to speak to about you, is  _you_.” Belaen knew his words would not comfort the boy, but sometimes it was necessary to say it how it was in order for healing to start. But, before that he also needed to hear more. “There is something else you should know.”

Camnath turned his head and looked at his guild master, his friend. “What?”

“I found out tonight, from representatives of the guilds you tried in the Eastern Kingdoms, that Sauren had a hand to play in your being rejected by them.”

“He  _what_?” Camnath’s anger started to rise again. “He deliberately blocked my path? Why?” An awkward moment passed. “To keep Tiene and I apart?”

Belaen nodded. “Seems like it, aye. Some think he had an unhealthy obsession with her parents, striving to be as good as they were, desiring a partnership like they had. Lina’s death had affected him greatly I heard, and when Yathas announced he was leaving the guild, well, his idols had abandoned him in his eyes, I suppose. Then, when he met Tiene...” He watched as Camnath’s posture bristled. The lad was going through torture. He quickly continued in an attempt to alter the focus on Sauren which equally needed to be addressed, according to various sources. “The guilds also have serious concerns about his ... direction these days.”

Camnath took a moment to compose himself before he turned round to face Belaen. “His right hand hinted at something tonight.”

“Brett? Now he’s a good man. You can trust him, Cam.”

Camnath nodded slowly. He really hoped he could, because he had asked him to watch over Tiene. He told Belaen what Brett’s suspicions were, of the involvement with a renowned mage and Caer Darrow. As it happened, similar whisperings had occurred at the Gathering. It seemed the affluent Sauren Nightflame had alienated quite a few within the network. Belaen suggested they discuss it more in depth once they were back in Kalimdor due to the fact Southshore was owned by the very people who owned Caer Darrow. Camnath agreed.

“In the meantime lad,” Belaen said. “Going by what I saw and heard of the lovely Tiene, I think there is much more to her than perhaps even  _you_ are aware of. She is strong. She will cope, whatever he does to her. She is, after all, a Firefury. Perhaps it is just not your time to be together yet.”

Camnath shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, pain still in his eyes. His guild master spoke again. “I  _know_  you love her, and I’m pretty damn sure  _she_  loves  _you_ just as much, therefore I believe your paths will cross in the future, when the time is right.”

Belaen patted Camnath on the shoulder, then returned to the inn leaving the young elf to lick his wounds and consider his words.

Camnath looked out over the sea and its moon-kissed waters. With a heavy sigh, he whispered. “A’ da’tad ordan dordie,* Tiene. Always."

 

” _Learn to use your womanly charms Tiene, it may, in the future, be what saves you. You are more powerful than you realise.”_   Her eyes flickered open. She lay on her belly, arm draped over the edge of the bed, the sheet covering her from the waist down. She fixated on a large black mass on the floor. Her eyes focused and she saw it was her dress from last night. The silver grey of Sauren’s suit lay in a crumpled heap to the right.

Eyes still traveling right, she saw a foot. She looked up to find the naked form of her guild master, and violator, sitting, staring at her. His dark brown eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. Supremely confident in his own skin, he sat with the other foot poised on the seat, a forearm leaning on his knee, the other resting on the chair arm. His eyes were still aflame, hungry. Was there no end to this man’s lust? She held his gaze.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

She didn’t answer, she just stared.

He lowered his arm and foot from the seat, displaying himself in all his glory. He was comfortable sitting there, naked. No inhibitions whatsoever.

 _“Once you see him, in all his magnificence, and feel him, you_ cannot _resist._ " She tried to rid Lexie’s voice from her head. It was, however, impossible  _not_  to notice his finely toned body. Two parallel scars, healed long ago, ran across his chest over the serpent and dagger tattoo. The snake seemed to slither with each deep breath he took. Other jagged scars traced down his left side over his ribs.

He had forced himself upon her though. There was nothing irresistible about that! Lexie had been adamant that one day, Tiene would understand how she felt. Well no, she would not want him as Lexie did. Poor Lexie. Tiene had ended up doubting her. But, the blonde would merely do whatever she needed to survive. Her eyes did not linger for long, nor travel lower. They flashed back to meet his.

A small laugh, though it was somewhat humourless, rumbled in his chest. “Speak to me, Tiene.”

She closed her eyes and turned away from him, moving herself further onto the bed, curling her arms around the pillow. She heard him shift from the chair and felt the bed sink slightly as his weight sat on the edge. His long slender fingers swept her golden hair from the side of her face, revealing a hint of the marks on her neck. “I did not mean to hurt you,” he said. “I swear I didn’t.”

Still she said nothing, her skin not even flinching under his touch. Her silence was deafening. It was a sound he was not used to and did not know how to deal with. He had been used to women either moaning with pleasure or pain when they lay in his bed. But Tiene had uttered nothing. It was as if she clamped up, closed herself to him. She had been a lively, talkative, vibrant woman last night while she danced in the arms of the black haired elf. Yet she had completely shut down when Sauren had deflowered her, not even a gasp when he took her, she had seemed in a trance. No fight, no flight. Nothing.

He was becoming agitated with her lack of response and the rage inside him started to build again. “Do I need to  _beat_  you to make you utter something?” he said, his words tinged with anger.

“Beat me if you must,” she replied quietly, staring at the wall. “Bruises at least heal.”

He flipped her over and pinned her arms at either side of her head. His dark eyes searched her pale azure orbs. “I really  _do not_  want to do that, Tiene. Not to you. I wish you would just...” he shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of a veil of darkness which possessed him.

” _Beg_?” she asked, looking up at him. ” _Scream_?”

” _Want_  me,” he replied, exasperated. He searched her eyes for some sign she had registered his words. He lowered his head to hers, their lips just touching. “I want you,” he whispered. “More than I have ever wanted anything, or anyone.”

“You got what you wanted last night,” she raised her chin, displaying the marks of his grip as a reminder of his brutality.

He punched the pillow beside her head. She didn’t even flinch. ” _No_!  _I didn’t_ , Tiene. I am still wanting.”

She remained quiet, assessing the situation. She saw his frustration, his anger, but she too had rage. Still, she needed to test the water more. “I thought you liked a willing participant! Like Lexie.  _I_   _wasn’t_ willing though, Sauren! What drove you to do this?”

He was momentarily stunned at her words. This was confusing, he felt shame. She was making him look at things in a perspective that was not his. His voice softened. “Have you never wanted something  _so badly_ , Tiene, that you just had to  _take it_?”

Her breath caught in her throat. Another, more distant memory flitted over her mind. Inaris. He said that very thing after the weaponsmith had smacked him. Oh, why such memories!  _Vendel’o eranu_ *, she wished inwardly. She swallowed and fought to keep the fight in her voice.

” _No!_ I haven’t _._ And how demeaning, whatever you gave me last night worked. It immobilised me enough for you to take what was  _not_  yours for the taking.”

He gasped, incensed that she would think such a thing. “That was merely an elixir to stop you becoming impregnated. Your lack of response was your own doing, and it was...  _infuriating_!” he tried to keep his voice level.

She stared at him. “Talk about planning! I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies then.”

Her words irked him, even though they reflected a cold harsh reality. She fidgeted to get out of his grasp but he wasn’t letting go. His eyes drank in her nakedness, the smoothness of her skin. Not a blemish to be seen, except for...

“You hurt me last night, Sauren,” she said, her moment of anger having subsided as she recalled Camnath’s eyes.

Releasing one of her hands he touched her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...”

She slapped his hand away. His eyes widened. Instantly, her anger returned. ” _Not_  that! I meant what you said to Camnath. What you implied. You  _know_ how I feel about him.”

“Well, I remember you  _did_  feel for him when you started here. But you never spoke of him much after, so I assumed with his choosing Kalimdor, the romance was all but over, it was just friendship that remained.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

” _Assumed_? You saw us together last night. Did that look like it was  _over_  to you? How can you be so cruel, so  _unfeeling_?”

“You think me unfeeling?” He had felt jealousy last night.  _That_  was a feeling. One he had not experienced before and did not like. And now, he was experiencing others that were totally alien to him too. It was more than just a sexual obsession he felt for this woman.

“You have no compassion! Lust and desire are all you know and they are not equivalent to having feelings. They are merely tools which drive you to get what you want at whatever the cost!”

There was venom in her voice. This was new. This was exciting. But, still he could not let her have the upper hand here. “And what of your precious Camnath?” he kept his voice low, in its usual gravelly tone. “Where were  _his_  feelings, Tiene?”

“You destroyed them!” she spat.

“Did I? That  _easily_? They could not have been very strong then, Tiene. He just turned and walked away from you.  _I,_ on the other hand, am willing to fight for you.”

The memory of Camnath leaving flitted across her mind. She loved him. He loved her... _didn’t_  he? She believed he did, once.  _Hoped_  he still did. She focused on the man above her, and anger bit once more. “You read my letters...”

“I did  _not_ , Tiene,” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “I merely  _guessed_  that you mentioned me as I’m your guild master and we speak nearly every day. I said it for effect.” He spoke the truth.

Her brow furrowed. He could see she was thinking it through. Her eyes suddenly hardened. “Well bravo, it worked!”

He desperately wanted her to understand how he felt. Gently he brushed strands of her hair behind her ear. “Tiene ...”

“Show me the letter,” she said flatly.

He inched back, surprised by her demand. “What?”

“Show me the letter. The one you said my father sent you.”

His mouth twitched.

“Prove to me you didn’t lie about that too.” She was becoming bold.

When he still didn’t move she swiftly ducked under his arms and dove for his jacket on the floor. Stunned for only a moment, he then grabbed her and they fell to the floor in a tangle. He wrestled the jacket from her hands, but she had the envelope. She fought as she had never fought before, pushing him away, kicking out, until finally she recognised the writing on the envelope. It was her father’s. Her heart sank. So it had been true?

Sauren attempted to relieve her of it, but she still wasn’t convinced and elbowed him away. She pulled out the letter. Again the guild master tried to get it from her. He grunted as her heel caught him just short of somewhere rather precious. He shifted so she could not try that move again.

Her eyes read the letter quickly before he could make another attempt at snatching it from her. But he remained where he was. He knew she had read it.

It was only a letter confirming that a consignment of armour was ready for delivery as per discussions. Nothing whatsoever to do with courting her. It had been a ruse. A bluff. A blatant lie.

Her rage, and her pain over the deceit surfaced, erupting tenfold. Lashing out she slapped him, punched, kicked and scratched and gouged him. She pushed him over and continued to hit him. “You evil bastard!” she screamed.

He was smiling, laughing, his perfect teeth on display. He held fast to her wrists but she struggled against him. He was loving her tantrum and it infuriated her even more.

“I  _hate_  you!” she hissed. Still she struggled.

He rolled her back over and pinned her hands down on the hard floor. His raw desire surfaced once more. Lowering his weight on her, he continued grinning. “No, you  _don’t_  hate me, Tiene. But go on, bring out your fury.  _Embrace_  the rage.”

She continued to struggle, but he was too strong, keeping her pinned beneath him. She was tiring from the effort again.

“Look at me Tiene.”

She stared at the rumpled clothes on the floor beside her, still furious inside at the way he had deceived her and Camnath. Raging did not come close to what she felt and she refused to look at him.

But he would not be denied. ” _Look_  at me!” he demanded.

She turned hateful eyes to him, her mouth tight with rage.

His eyes were dark, full of lust and something more that she could not fathom. She dropped her eyes to his mouth and those perfect teeth.

“I have fought my desire for you for a year,” he said, his voice was low, and raspy. “I could have taken you the very first day you arrived and believe me I  _wanted_ to; I almost did. But this is about more than just pleasuring you or satisfying my own sexual needs.”

She raised her eyes to his again. ” _Really?_ " she spat sarcastically.

The effect of her answer was not what she expected. The brown orbs had softened, they were warm almost tender. “I do not know what you have done to me Tiene, but I sometimes think you have possessed me. So much so, that I did what I did, to have you here. Like this,” his eyes roamed over her body. “With  _me_.”

Her breathing was steadying. Somewhere in the distance was an echo - a female voice. Lexie’s. It sounded almost smug.

His lips hovered over hers, his warm breath ghosting on her face. “I know you think you loved that boy, but he  _left_ you. He doubted you. I on the other hand, I would  _kill_ for you.”

She closed her eyes wanting to shut out the world. Why did Camnath walk away? Why did he not fight for her?  _Because he would have lost_ , she reasoned. This beast above her was a far more skilled assassin than Camnath, and if he had challenged Sauren, he would have lost, and therefore never be able to be with Tiene,  _ever_. This way, there was perhaps a chance for them in the future. She desperately had to believe that.

Opening her eyes again she looked at the naked man above her. When he had taken her in the night, she had closed herself down during the act. But, now she was fully conscious,  _fully_ aware of him.

The female voice scoffed in the distance.

Sauren moved his weight slightly and she could feel his arousal. “I will be good to you, in  _every_ way, Tiene. We will be invincible as a team, precise, synchronised.  _Deadly_.”

She knew what was next. He thrust forward, brutally. She almost screamed as she felt him take her again, filling her; but she capped her cry, biting her lip.

His gravelly voice spoke once more. “And I will give you  _unlimited_ pleasure.” His mouth crashed over hers in a deep kiss, tongue probing. A groan escaped him as he moved within her. She was acutely aware of the sculpted body above her with its serpent tattoo, the way his muscles rippled with every thrust.

_Lexie: “When he takes you...”_

_Tiene: I must_ not  _listen..._

He continued driving into her slowly now, rhythmically. It was intoxicating. A new sensation was building within her, deep down, and it was not entirely unpleasant. A small sound escaped her lips. She knew this was wrong, a grave betrayal to her heart, but to her shame, it felt  _so good_.

_Lexie:“You will succumb to his charms...”_

_Tiene: No, I will...not..._

He sighed as he watched a flush begin to spread on her skin. He released her hands, slowly, one at a time, and placed his on the floor. Now he ploughed into her, deeper, faster.

She was responding, even though she tried to resist. He knew the sign though, could see it,  _feel_ it. Her barriers were crumbling, she was surrendering.

” _Want_  me, Tiene.” His voice, full of hunger, drew her attention. ” _Enjoy_ me.”

Her eyes were bright, almost glowing. She imagined his serpent tattoo wrapping itself around her, binding her body to his. It’s tongue flicking her skin, the seductive hiss in her ear. Temptation.

 _Lexie: “You_ will _want him...”_

_Tiene: I do not... I do..._

A deep sigh came from her. Her body started to writhe, her hips meeting with his. Reaching up she grabbed his platinum locks and pulled him down. Her mouth frantically covered his. She nipped his bottom lip with her teeth and he drew his head back, momentarily surprised, tasting the blood on his lip. His tongue lapped the red liquid.

He pushed up, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her to him roughly, hungrily. The sensation fired up from deep within, she shuddered, he could feel her release building. He loved her surrender.

She gasped, almost screamed, back arching, she clawed at the floor.

“More! Give me  _more_ , Tiene,” he rasped. He thrust harder still.

 _Lexie: “You_ will _want him, again and_ again _...”_

_Tiene: Forgive me..._

Her back and shoulder blades burned from the friction on the floor but she didn’t care now. The strange new sensations in her lower abdomen were intoxicating. She wanted more. He  _was_  magnificent, wild, insatiable, utterly erotic. He sent her over - she practically howled.

Spurred by her reaction, he closed his eyes, and with one brutal final thrust, he called out as his own release came fast and plentiful. His platinum braids flicked over his shoulder as he threw his head back in the throes of the orgasm.

His rhythm slowed, body shuddering, the serpent tattoo pulsing as his chest heaved from the carnal exertion. His hair fell forward covering both their faces as he brought his mouth close to hers. A thin film of salty perspiration lined his top lip, she licked it away along with the small amount of blood that still wept from her bite before. He smirked, a flash of his perfect teeth, his breath, hot and sweet on her cheeks, and his eyes, like a deep mahogany, burning hotly. ” _Now_  ...” he panted, “... _Now_ , I have what I wanted, Tiene.”

  

She entered her rooms and immediately went to bathe, scrubbing harshly and furiously dousing her womanly parts. Her back and shoulders still burned from the contact with the floor. She loaded the cloth and squeezed the soothing water over the grazes. Lightly, she dabbed her throat. It still ached from the assault of last night although it did not look as angry as she thought it might.

Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit her. She felt crippling shame. Her dreams had been shattered, the turn of fate had been but a consignment of leather goods, and a man whose insatiable carnal appetite had her in his sights all this time.

Her own nature had started to forge through, however. One which was adequately reflected in her family’s name. Firefury. There was no way this fiend was going to break her. She could match him. He could have her body, but he would not have her soul nor her heart.

She hated him. She did!  _Didn’t_  she? For the cruelty he doled out on Camnath, she would  _never forgive him_. For the devious plot he hatched in order to bed her, she would  _never forgive him_. For her body enjoying how he felt that last time, she would  _never forgive him_  ... nor herself. Above  _all_ , she would never forgive herself. And, there was a new complication now. Yes, she would never forgive him. Yes, she hated him. But, she wanted him too. Lexie had been right.  _“You will want him, again and again...”_

Her sobs came suddenly and brutally. She crumpled to her knees. This, she promised, would be the last time she would allow herself to cry about it. Aledine’s distant voice echoed in her memory once more. ” _Do not be ashamed of your body. It can serve you as a weapon, as good as any dagger._   _Under the right circumstances, of course.”_

Slowly, gradually, her sobs subsided. A last douse, then wrapping a towel around her bruised, tender body, she moved through and sat on her bed.

She opened the little cabinet beside it and pulled out the box she kept Camnath’s letters in. She pressed them to her lips and brushed them against her cheek. “My love,” she whimpered. “He robbed me of the gift I wanted to give you. Though I will never be able to right this wrong, I will make him pay, and hope that one day, you will be able to forgive  _me_.”

 

 

* A’ da’tad ordan dordie – You have my heart

* Vendel’o eranu – Help me forget


	26. Laying Foundations

* * *

 

She watched from her window as Sauren rode out with his two henchmen.  _Breathing space_ , she thought. As most of the recruits had gone home for the festivities, there were only some trainers and advisors remaining in the grounds. This would mean there would only be one sitting for any of the meals. She was pretty sure she had missed breakfast, thankfully, really, but she was hungry now, so she would head down to the kitchens.

Dressed in plain cloth trousers, tunic, soft-soled boots and a scarf to hide the light bruising on her throat, she ventured downstairs. It was strange the halls and rooms being empty of chattering and laughing trainees. Servants were busy cleaning still from the festivities of the night before, and went about their chores without so much as a glance in her direction. For this she was grateful.

Initially, when she had first crossed the hall from Sauren’s chambers to hers, a feeling of paranoia had gripped her. Thinking that somehow she had a sign above her head stating that she was ‘Sauren’s New Pet’, she visualised everyone sneering or laughing at her. After she had bathed, cried, bathed some more however, she took time to think things through.

Sauren had made it perfectly clear, she was the one he wanted above all others. He desperately wanted her to feel the same way about him.  _That_  would never happen. Her heart was secreted away, in Camnath’s care. Whether he chose to look after, or discard it, she would never know, but it did not change the fact it was in his possession. Even if he didn’t believe it, she would always burn a torch for her ebony haired love, until she was no more.

As far as her current situation was concerned, she would play the part. There was too much at stake for her to do otherwise. First, and fore mostly, her family could never know what had happened. They would, no doubt come to know that she was with Sauren, but they would be shielded from the circumstances of how it came about. She did not want her brothers to come riding in seeking vengeance simply for their sister’s brutal deflowering. In the bigger picture, it was not that important. She was still breathing after all, and relatively unscathed. Neither did she wish her father to somehow feel he was to blame for her predicament. His faith in the guild and what it represented for him and that of her mother would not be besmirched over this. Everything her family held dear and believed in, would remain untainted.

Secondly, she had a team to think of. Sauren had pointed out they would follow her, they had taken it upon themselves to appoint her their leader. They were good people, friends even. The truth of last night would not be divulged to them neither. They had to see her as she was before their guild leader violated her. If indeed they saw her as their team leader, she would ensure she lived up to their expectations. In turn she would expect their loyalty.

Thirdly, however long it took, she would ensure Sauren paid. She wasn’t quite sure how but she would see it through. He could have her as often as, and any which way he wanted, she didn’t care, it was just her body. She would give him what he craved. Physically, it was not difficult to do, but perhaps convincingly, might be an area she would have to perfect.

Finally, not only was she going to make him suffer for what he did to Camnath, but she would bring his entire kingdom crashing around his feet. Sauren Nightflame would be extinguished. A man like that was bound to have shady dealings somewhere and she would route them out. She only knew of one thing that had had him slightly on edge and that had been something the old man in Karazhan had said to him when they were about to enter the portal. He mentioned a name. Kel’Thuzad.

She knew not who this was, but Sauren’s reaction had been one of someone who had been caught out. Perhaps this Kel’Thuzad had been the client they had entered the place for? She needed an ally. Someone who would be willing to help.

That someone had to be Brett Hornsby.

The dining hall was quiet, the remaining staff having already been fed and watered. She moved on through to the kitchens. There she found eggs, bread, cheese and ham in a cupboard. She decided to throw together an omelette. She managed a small smile as she recalled her cookbook, courtesy of Nerisen and the library at Ravensholdt, as she whisked the eggs then chopped up the ham and grated the cheese.

“That looks real tasty,” a voice from a darkened corner said. Tiene dropped the fork she was using to whisk. She looked to the corner, something telling her that voice was familiar. “So, he got you after all,” it said.

“Lexie?” Tiene moved round the table as a hooded figure materialised in front of her. Pushing the hood back, Lexie looked at her friend. Tiene threw her arms around her and Lexie returned the warm gesture. They stood for a long time just hugging each other.

“I thought you had disappeared off the face of Azeroth,” Tiene said, looking at the girl in front of her. She looked so much more grown up, tougher, more resilient.

“I almost did when Sauren’s henchmen came after me.”

“What?” Tiene pulled up a chair for Lexie and sat her down. She proceeded to crack more eggs, preparing to make breakfast for the two of them.

“I knew he would send them, or I should say, I thought he’d come after me himself. But, as you can see, I gave them the slip.”

“Why though? Why did they come after you?”

“Because of what I told you. I take it he wheedled it out of you.”

Tiene stopped whisking and looked up, her eyes wide.  _The library_ , she thought.. “Belore! I’m so sorry, Lexie. I told him what you said because I was scared. I didn’t think he would come after you though.”

“It’s alright, Tiene. I knew what the consequences would be when I told you, but you needed to know.” She watched as Tiene slowly resumed making breakfast. “He would not be happy that I scared his Golden Girl.”

Tiene looked up at Lexie, not quite sure how to take that. Lexie smiled at her. “I don’t mean anything against you Tiene, I’m just trying to convey how much you mean to him.”

Tiene guffawed. “Oh yes, I mean so much to him alright. He lied, he was devious, he hurt me...”

“So I gathered,” Lexie said pointing to Tiene’s scarf.

“No, I don’t mean that,” Tiene smirked, adjusting the material round her neck. “Though it did hurt a bit. Just the way it was all done. So underhanded. He destroyed what Camnath and I ...” At that, she did shed a tear and quickly wiped it away, shaking her head. She promised herself she would not cry any more about it. Lexie placed a consoling hand on Tiene’s. She smiled, wanly. “Anyway,” she said, once again preparing the food. “How did you get in here? Weren’t you worried about him, or his staff seeing you?”

Lexie sat down on a stool opposite. “I watched them leave. Other staff couldn’t care less I reckon, but I kept myself stealthed.”

Tiene turned and shook the ham about it in the pan on the stove then added the eggs. A noise from the entrance to the kitchen suddenly had them alerted. Tiene signalled to Lexie to stealth. She didn’t need telling and had already vanished by the time Tiene finished gesturing.

A shape loomed from the doorway. Brett.

“Oh, it’s you, Brett,” Tiene said, slightly relieved but still concerned for Lexie.

“Aye lass, just me. Do you mind?”

“She glanced at the space where Lexie had been then back at Brett. “No, would you like some breakfast?”

“That would be grand, if Lexie doesn’t mind that is.”

The human girl dropped her concealment. “You  _always_ knew it was me. How come?”

“The soap you use,” he laughed. “You only get that kind around Redridge as it’s local produce. And the fact, I was on my way over when I saw Tiene come in and overheard you both. Sorry.” He lowered his head for a second then settled his gaze on Tiene. “I’m truly sorry, Tiene. I wish I could have stopped it but...”

“There was nothing you could have done, Brett, so don’t worry.” The blonde said quickly.

“But I do, Tiene. That beau of yours, Camnath he’s a good lad, I hated seeing what Sauren did to you both last night.”

Tiene looked at the burly rogue. “Camnath  _is_  good. Too good for me, so he’s better out of it,” she put her head down and busied herself cracking yet more eggs.

“Why on Azeroth would you think like that Tiene?”

She put down the fork and stared at both of them. “Because it’s true Brett. A nice girl would just pack her bags now and run off to Kalimdor to find him. But I’m not going to do that. I’m too hell bent on revenge!”

She glanced between the two people she called friends. “I will make Sauren pay for last night. For jeopardising everything, my father and mother’s reputation, my family’s pride in me for getting this far, my team members respect, who look up to me for  _some_ reason or another.

“Running away would not be punishment for him, it would be part of the game. And supposing I eluded him, what good would that do? A life on the run? With or  _without_  Camnath, that would be no life at all.”

Brett shifted a little uncomfortably. “But Tiene, Camnath loves you.”

She picked up the knife she had used for chopping the ham and threw it across the room with such force, it embedded in a wooden spar and vibrated with a twanging sound. “Then why, tell me, did I see doubt in his eyes when I pleaded with him not to listen to Sauren!!”

There she’d said it. The one thing that had niggled in the back of her mind and she dared not voice for fear it proved Sauren right - that he couldn’t have felt very deeply for her after all.

Lexie looked at Brett. “So now you doubt  _him_?” Lexie said. “Is that how it goes, Tiene?”

Tiene snapped her head up and glared at Lexie then Brett. After a moment, she calmed. “I don’t know. But, I will see this through, supposing it takes years I will make Sauren suffer.” She turned to the stove, the eggs were over done. “Sorry,” she said. “I forgot about these.”

Both Brett and Lexie rose and went round to hug Tiene, then sat her down while they took over the cooking.

Over breakfast, Brett informed the two women that Sauren had left on business saying he would return in two days.

Tiene told them about the man in Karazhan and the name he mentioned. Asked if he knew anything about someone called Kel’Thuzad, Brett nodded saying that it seemed feasible that  _he_  was the high up mage they heard Sauren had been meeting with, but he would need to confirm it. He explained about Caer Darrow also.

He also told Tiene that Camnath was taking the information to Belaen Bloodbane. There were a number of other guild masters who were none too impressed with Sauren Nightflame, all having their own misgivings. Belaen may help in rallying them if Camnath could convince him to look into it. He firmly believed there would be no difficulty there, Belaen was no fan of Sauren's.

They cleared away the dishes so no evidence, particularly that of Lexie, was left lying around. The three of them made a pact to work together in bringing Sauren down. Brett reassured Tiene that there were loyal followers of Sa’themar still in the guild and they had never warmed to his son. Tiene asked him to be very careful in selecting those that could be trusted. They did not have enough of anything to go on yet, but there was definite under currents of something untoward.

Finally, she needed to go to Silvermoon. She would go while Sauren was away, but she would go there in secrecy and no-one other than the individual she needed to see would know she had been. Again, Brett was able to help. He knew a mage who he trusted to portal her there and indeed back. She agreed.

Lexie would remain in Capital City but outwith the Crimson Blade, obviously. She had friends too who would help. Any correspondence required would be enclosed in letters addressed to Brett, who, for now anyway, still had Sauren’s trust. Brett would in turn pass any letters on to Tiene, if so necessary.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

She was just seeing one her best clients off the premises. The elderly man chuckled as she kissed him on the cheek before he made his way up the stairs to the outside world. The elegant woman glided her way back to her chamber of sensual delights and sat a small table of magical pots and powders where she proceeded to freshen up her look.

The madame waved towards the doorway as one of her girls let her know she was taking in the next client. The working girl laughed as the client grabbed her butt and squeezed it playfully. Aledine smiled and turned her attention back to the mirror. She moved closer to her reflection as she started to carefully paint her lips in a rich ruby red.

She gasped, dropping her lip brush, as a face appeared behind her out of thin air. “You once told me my body could be as good a weapon as any dagger.”

The blonde hair and impish face was familiar indeed. “Inaris’ sister?  _Tiene_?”

“Correct, Aledine.” The elf inclined her head with respect.

The madame nodded. This was not however, quite the same innocent young girl she met just over a year ago. This was a woman who had much anger, yet plentiful passion in her. This woman was deadly indeed.

“What can I do for you, Tiene?” The madame asked with just a hint of apprehension.

“Teach me,” the blonde said. “Teach me all.”

 

 


	27. Old Dog, New Tricks

* * *

Tiene sat in one of the booths in Capital Inn with a bottle of Brightsong Wine, already a third of it gone. She sat swilling the wine round gently in her glass, almost mesmerised by the warm peach colour of the liquid. The alcohol was to relax her for the imminent return of her guild master and now lover, Sauren Nightflame. He would be hungry no doubt, ravenous, and not for anything the inn nor the kitchens at the guild grounds could rustle up neither. Even though she had a better understanding of his demands now, she was still nonetheless, a little nervous.

Her visit to Aledine the day before had been ... informative. As well as slightly embarrassing, shocking at times, and at one point hilariously funny. The madame had taken her through a passage in her ‘house of sinful pleasures’ where those of a particular persuasion could simply observe the experts of love at work. At first Tiene knew not where to look, her face had went about fifty shades of red, but Aledine, with her incredible seductive and provocative abilities managed to make Tiene overcome her embarrassment and in the end she became a studious voyeur.

She had decided to tell Aledine of her situation making the madame swear to secrecy, ensuring no-one, particularly not her brother, ever got to hear about it.

There had been little need to have Aledine promise confidentiality however, an establishment such as this was used to hearing many things uttered and of varying degrees of severity. It was the second best place to confess your sins, the first, of course being the church.

Aledine had looked at Tiene with immeasurable sorrow. She had remembered there being a boy in Tiene’s life a year ago. To learn that he had still been the one she cared for and they were robbed of their intimacy by this guild leader of hers, made her feel so sad for her.

On hearing how Tiene was going to handle the situation however, she had to admire the girl. Pleasuring the man who had taken her would be easy enough for her to learn, Aledine had known many men with similar tastes to that of Tiene’s leader. The fun part was turning the tables - who ended up being in the dominant role.

From the sounds of things, this Sauren was indeed an insatiable brute with a need to control in the boudoir. Still, Aledine knew a man like that could so easily be made putty in one’s hands with a little know-how. In this case though, it would be prudent to take one’s time. Too soon a change may make him suspicious. He had after all, taken Tiene’s virginity, she was a novice. She could not instantly be an expert in the art of sexual pleasure.

Tiene needed to make his greatest weakness yet another of her own strengths, but it would take time and Aledine advised her of this. Tiene said she understood, and she cared not how long it took, as long as everything came together as she planned. This was as far as the madame could assist the young elf. The other things she planned were way out of Aledine’s line of expertise. The bringing down of an empire more or less, was not something she dabbled in.

Draining her glass, Tiene poured some more just as she caught a glimpse of a colourful waistcoat to her left. She smiled. Louvel was back in town. It had been some months since last she saw him. She had not been at her best then, with her broken arm and dislocated shoulder.

“Drinking alone?” she heard him say.

“Hopefully not anymore,” she replied standing to greet him. A hesitant moment passed and then he hugged her, lightly. She hugged him back.

He turned and shouted over to the barmaid for another glass and another bottle of wine. As the barmaid brought him his wine, his eyes caught sight of Tiene’s throat as she drained her glass. The unmistakable marks of a hand. He noted how quickly she topped up her glass and drank again while absentmindedly sorting the scarf around her neck. His jaw tightenend. He knew why she drank. The very thing he hoped would not happen to her, had. He poured his own wine, offering her some, but she declined pointing to her own unfinished bottle. He would not embarrass the girl by mentioning the unthinkable. He would quietly gauge the situation, see how she was coping.

“So, you are ahead of me,” he said pointing to her wine. “I shall have to do some serious catching up.”

Tiene smiled. “Shouldn’t take you long, this is only my first bottle.”

Louvel raised his glass. “To the next bottle then.” He drained his glass and quickly topped it up, repeating the action until his bottle and glass were the same as Tiene’s.

“So, how’s your training coming along?”

“Good,” she replied. “I understand now why some menial tasks are fundamental in helping improve the skills of a rogue.”

“That is true, yes. It all contributes towards our abilities. And missions? Are you doing some of them?“”

“Yes. They are fun.”

” _Fun_? Well, I’ve never heard anyone call them fun, exactly. Tiring, yes. Exciting perhaps. Dangerous, occasionally, but  _fun_?”

She laughed as his green eyes twinkled and the tight mouth broke into a smile.

“The dangerous ones are for my third, possibly fourth year,” she said.

“Ah, assassinations then, you mean?”

“Yes.” She drained another glass.

Her answer had been a little sharp he noted. He did not draw attention to it. He also realised the alcohol did not seem to be taking effect. The wine they consumed was quite a potent brand, but she did not look as if she had had nearly a full bottle. At the rate she was drinking though, and with her small frame, it could hit her rather abruptly later.

“Quite a while to go then,” he said.

She nodded, topping up her glass.

He took the bottle from her hand. She looked at him with a little annoyance in her eyes. He looked back, a haughty lift of his chin as he did so. “We will eat now, Tiene and then your journey to drunken oblivion can continue afterwards.”

“You eat?” she said with a smirk, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

He liked her sass. He knew she was not really being disrespectful, just exercising playful sarcasm. “Not very often no, but I will make an exception for you,” he smiled.

“Okay then,” she laughed. “It is probably a wise decision certainly.”

He shouted over the waitress. It was the same girl who had served them the first day Tiene had come to the inn with Sauren. The girl eyed Tiene cautiously. Tiene subconsciously placed her hand over the scarf she wore. The girl’s eyes widened momentarily then she resumed her duties without comment.

Louvel fixed his monocle firmly in place and studied the menu. “How does the special of the house sound, Tiene? My treat by the way.” he asked.

“What is it?”

“Cooked Glossy Mightfish,” he told her, “served with seasonal vegetables and creamy potatoes.” Then looking at the waitress he asked, “I take it the fish is locally caught?”

“I believe so sir, yes. Hinterlands I think.”

“Close enough,” he nodded. “Yes, we’ll have that I think. Thank you.”

The waitress disappeared to the kitchens with their order. Tiene looked at her glass, then at Louvel. He sighed, “Alright, have a sip, but go easy, I am hoping for good conversation as well as enjoying having a drinking companion.”

They did not have too long to wait for their meal. One did not overcook this fish, it was expensive and the inn could not afford for such a dish to go unpaid for by a disgruntled customer.

As they sat eating, Louvel subtley studied the young woman across from him. There was a sadness about her, whether it was because the whipper-snapper had had her or something else was the cause, he knew not, but it hung over her almost like an aura. He knew she was stronger than she looked right now though, as the occasional glint of a fighter flashed behind her eyes. She tried to cover up her own worries by asking him if he had managed to visit home.

He was happy to report he had, four times since last they met actually. His son Lewis had been over the moon to see his father and they had went fishing and hunting together. Lewis had even tried his hand at carving figures in wood like Louvel used to do for him when he was a child. The boy was quite good at it, although his subjects were a little odd for wood-carving, Louvel thought. Lewis also liked to add colour and had painted some in their natural colours. He put his hand in his pocket and produced one of Lewis’ creations.

Tiene slowly put down her fork as he held the figure before her eyes. She took it from him and studied it silently, her eyes glistening. The little butterfly in its reds and golds seemed to enchant her and she very carefully turned it over and over in her hands. Louvel realised it meant something to her. “You may keep it if you wish,” he said. “I have another one he made which I will keep.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her face both showing joy and sorrow.

“Yes, Tiene. I am. I’m sure Lewis would be thrilled to know a lovely young woman was so astounded by his work.”

She looked at it again before putting it on the table beside her plate. She continued to eat her meal while looking at the butterfly.

Louvel decided to move conversation along. “Do you know, Tiene, I once met an extraordinary being who said he came from a distant land.”

She looked up at Louvel, instantly intrigued. He smiled as he was reminded of the eagerness in Lewis’ face, when he was younger, as he would start to tell him stories about far away places and mystical creatures.

“What was so extraordinary about it?” she asked.

“Well, he was a traveller and he rode the most ridiculous looking mount you ever saw. It was giant turtle.”

“Really? A turtle?”

“Yes. And it could move, it was not as sluggish as you would have thought.”

“What was his name?”

“The turtle? I don’t know,” he said with a knowing smirk.

Tiene laughed. He was teasing her.

“His name was Shing Windpaw,” he proceeded with a smile. “and he was a monk from a faction known as the Shado-Pan. I had never heard of them and knew not from whence he came. He said it was a mystical place called Pandaria, where beautiful lush meadows and forests stretched up to the majestic mountains covered in snow.

“Huge serpents filled the skies, some of which were mounts for the peoples of the land. Mystical temples resided in very specific parts of the land, and celestial bodies of immense power blessed the peoples with gifts of strength, wisdom, vitality but above all hope, instilling them with the belief that faith in family and honour were what made us all strong.”

Tiene was wide-eyed and utterly captivated. Louvel gestured to her plate to encourage her to keep eating. She did so, but remained fixed on him, waiting for him to carry on with his story.

He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and continued. “This monk, Shing, was also an astounding fighter with skills the likes of which you have never witnessed, Tiene. He could leap great heights which seemed suspended in time before he crashed down and knocked enemies flying, like they were grains of sand that you kick it up while running on a beach. One punch from him and you were into next week!”

Tiene leaned further over the table, her tunic almost dipping into her plate of fish and creamed potatoes.

Louvel carried on. “He only ever fought though, if the situation could not be resolved through other means. Most amazing of all, were methods he used in which could render his opponent ...  _paralysed_. It was  _fascinating_  to watch, Tiene.

“One minute they were slashing, or punching, shouting at the tops of their voices, charging at Shing as if they were going to knock him off the face of Azeroth. Then, with one swift move... _pow_! They were immobilised. Couldn’t move a muscle, only their eyes, and mouths if they were lucky.

“Some, he left like that and walked away. They would eventually die, but it was a slow death. Others, he paralysed just long enough to tell them the errors of their ways, watching the realisation on their faces that the end was nigh. And then...he’d punch or kick, once only, and they were dead.”

The waitress arrived to check if they were enjoying their meal. Her arrival snapped Tiene out of her trance-like state and she gulped down another two mouthfuls before pushing her plate towards the waitress. She said thank you to her, but turned her attention quickly back to Louvel, hoping there was more to tell.

He smiled at the waitress, letting her know he too was finished and thanked her also as she took his plate away. He put the bottles of wine back onto the table and replenished their glasses. He smirked as he saw Tiene’s expression. Without further ado, he concluded his story. “So, I thought I would ask the honourable Shing to teach me such moves.”

“And did he?” she asked before his mouth could form another word.

“Yes, he did. I know moves Tiene that are not part of a rogue’s formal training and I think ... you may like to know them also.”

“Oh yes!! Indeed I would,” she said, her eyes flashing the inner strength he knew she possessed.

“You must know however, these moves take time to master. It took myself about a year to a year and a half to perfect. They are all about hitting the right pressure points, the right way, Tiene. Even places on someone’s arm, giving the correct pressure, can take the legs out from under them.  _Imagine, Tiene!_  Imagine being able to paralyse your enemy and how delicious it would be watching their face as you inform them you knew all their secrets, their wrong-doings, and then they realise they had gravely under estimated you and  _your_  abilities.”

Her eyes were almost wild, feral. “Yes!” she hissed. “You must teach me Louvel. I  _must_  know this.”

Louvel sat back in his chair, satisfied. He lifted his glass. She lifted hers. They clinked them together. “To...?” he asked.

Tiene smiled. “To us, Louvel,” she replied. “To friends.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

Tiene walked slowly back to the guild headquarters. She wasn’t near as drunk as she thought she would be, probably thanks to Louvel’s insistence that she ate something and the fact, she’s pretty sure the rascal kept her interested in his stories so he could polish off most of it. She didn’t mind in the slightest. His company had been a welcome distraction from what awaited inside the walls of the Crimson Blade. He had offered to escort her back to the guild, but she declined, and bought him another bottle to make him stay put. She knew he was too polite to refuse. She had arranged to meet with him again the following day to start learning the way of the monk, all going well.

Her eyes scanned the courtyard and the stables. No sign of her lord and master yet. She made her way up to her rooms, stopping to double check if any sounds were coming from Sauren’s chamber. Oddly, there was some noise in there. She pressed he ear closer to the door.

“Is everything alright Tiene?”

Ella’s voice startled her and she jumped back from Sauren’s door. “No! I just thought I heard someone in the guild master’s room and I noticed he wasn’t back yet.”

“Ah, it will be Shada, she is preparing his room for when he returns later tonight. I was actually on my way to help her, but do you need anything?”

Tiene took a moment to think, thankful Ella had not thought anything of her listening at Sauren’s door. “I could do with a bath.”

“Right away, I will get some maids to fill your tub,” then she hurried away down the stairs.

Tiene turned and entered her chambers. First thing she did was put the wooden butterfly beside the Camnath’s letters. She had bundled them together and bound them with a pale blue ribbon. She had resigned herself to the high probability that he would never write to her again. That hurt so much, but it was unrealistic to think he would put pen to paper for her again. He would no doubt get to hear of what was going on. It was never any surprise that so-called closely guarded secrets somehow managed to worm their way out through the network.

She looked lovingly at the bundle of letters. She wanted to open them again, to hear his gentle voice in her head as she read his words, but decided against it. It would just make her cry. She still loved him so deeply. It was painful enough seeing his face in her mind’s eye, firstly as the grass stained boy in Quel’thalas, but then the vision always changed to the man who walked away with hurt in his eyes. And doubt. She would never forget the doubt. It would be a very long time indeed before that pain would subside, if indeed it ever did.

After a while four maids came with large buckets of hot water, followed quickly by another four and yet another. Ella brought some scented oils for her to use in her bath, and some fresh towels. Tiene thanked her and then she left.

The water was soothing and the fragrance pleasing. As she soaked, she started to relax. She took comfort in the things she had learned in the past two days, Aledine’s voyeuristic tour and words of advice, and Louvel’s promise to teach her a style of fighting not known to the common rogue. She knew it was going to be a long haul, but she would see it through. Now, she had to also listen to what was going on in the outside world. There would signs there of Sauren’s plans, you just had to know where to look. She was sure Brett, Lexie, all those loyal to Sa’themar still, and hopefully Belaen Bloodbane if indeed Camnath managed to speak to him about Brett’s misgivings, would all rally too. All these things were giving her hope.

The sound of horses arriving in the courtyard brought her out of her reverie. He was back. Quickly, she climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself, patting her skin dry. Then she quickly brushed her hair, making it glossy. Next a quick dab of scented water behind her ears. His voice echoed across the courtyard as he told the stable boy to tend to the horses.

_“Don’t be afraid, it is only your body.”_

_“Learn to enjoy it, it will make your predicament easier to bear.”_

_“Even without love, it can be pleasurable.”_

All advice from Aledine. Now to try and follow that advice. She climbed into her bed. Carefully, she spread her hair over the pillows then lay waiting, trying to calm her nerves. It was still all new to her, but she could not deny, it had felt good. She could hear him bounding up the stairs. Now he was entering his rooms, but he did not close the door. Then her door opened. And closed.

Her breath hitched as she listened to the sounds of him coming into her rooms. The riding boots slowly crossing the outer room, the sound of a heavy jacket hitting the floor. Scuffling as the boots were removed and clobbered down on the sumptuous rug. She watched the corner of the doorway to her bedchamber.

His tall, athletic frame came in to view. He smiled at her. He pulled off his shirt, the tattoo flexing with his every breath. She noticed he carried one of the small vials in his right hand. Her eyes quickly rose up to meet his again as he started undoing the ties of his leather britches. His eyes, ablaze, watched her reaction as he rid himself of them. He was more than ready to pleasure her. He had absolutely no inhibitions whatsoever. He knew he looked good. A blush spread from her neck up over her cheeks. His mouth curled in a smile allowing her to see those perfect teeth.

Standing beside the bed, he towered above her, he was physically magnificent, on that count, Lexie had not been wrong. He handed her the vial with lilac liquid. She took it and drank the contents, letting the empty vial slip from her fingers as he pulled back the sheet , climbed in and made her his.

She fought down the shame, focusing instead on what Aledine told her,  _concentrate on his touch, his kiss_. Allowing her body to carry itself through natural responses, she got through that night. And it was far from unpleasant.


	28. Time

* * *

Time rolled by. Years in fact and over this time, Tiene had diligently met with Louvel, whenever he was available of course, during the times Sauren went away on business. She had tremendous respect for the noble rogue. His unshakable belief that being a lone wolf was the best strategy for a rogue, was indeed impressive. Everything he did, he did for his family, ensuring their lives were comfortable and safe. His son, now a young man, wrote to his father, care of Capital Inn, and sometimes asked if the pretty lady that had liked his butterfly still had it in her possession. She did, of course, safely tucked beside dusty letters tied together with a pale blue ribbon.

From this noble rogue, she learned the ways of the Shado-Pan monks. Louvel was a good teacher, though he liked to clown about at times, making Tiene panic as she thought she had seriously injured him or at one time even thought she had killed him. When he jumped up and said ‘boo’, how furious she was, stamping her feet and pointing an angry finger at him. She scolded him for scaring her so badly, but he pulled her into a hug and eventually they had ended up laughing about it together.

He taught her the pressure points in the body which would paralyse an opponent. Areas on the arms, just above the wrist and on the chest. He explained that it was all about applying energy either in, or taking it out of someone’s body, using an upward or downward motion. Some pressure points actually worked better if executed at certain times of the day, requiring less effort in the strike than at other times. Nonetheless, they could still be done at any time, it was just a case of knowing how much power behind the strike was required.

Occasionally Lexie joined them and Louvel had no qualms in teaching her the techniques as well. Along with the all important strikes, they learned almost graceful moves and also increased their natural rogue abilities, in adopting the new styles. Lexie even offered to be a marmot, and let Louvel demonstrate on her. He was quite taken aback by the offer, but she knew why he was teaching this to Tiene, even though he hadn’t come out and said it. Tiene needed to know not only how to put the energy in, but also how to take it out again. Never do things by half measures, Lexie said. She trusted him. She insisted.

Tiene almost passed out with panic as she saw her friend hit the ground as rigid as a board, the only things moving, her eyes. Louvel told her to calm down so he could show her how to undo it. She did,  _eventually_ , though he expressed that time was of the essence, unless she wanted to see her friend to turn blue, that was. Her friend survived needless to say.

Lexie would always bring a picnic for them, and after Louvel’s tutelage they would sit under a tree and dine on sandwiches and wine, then he showed them a simple meditation technique. At first the women chuckled at the cross-legged Louvel, with palms up, chanting. Eventually, after he haughtily scolded them, while smirking , they followed his lead. The chanting helped Tiene in many ways. She treasured Louvel’s teachings, probably more than he would ever realise and continued with honing her skill even when she became quite adept in the ways of the monk.

As for her ‘other’ lessons, they had steadily helped her improve in that area too. No longer feeling shame at what she shared with her guild leader, she had become a very able lover indeed. Sauren, it seemed had been more than happy to play a submissive role on occasion.

He was never violent with her again. He treated Tiene well. He was however, always hungry,  _insatiable_  and had a seemingly never-ending supply of stamina.

He respected her wish for their intimacy to be kept out of sight and sound of recruits and staff alike. Obviously Brett and the maids knew, but it was not a subject for open discussion. Truth was, most of the guild knew anyway, but as Tiene and Sauren went about their daily duties, training, and missions as normal, nothing was made of it. No-one would dare, truth be told.

Their work together went from strength to strength, as did that of her team. Before long they were being taught the rules of assassination. Some of these missions were solo work. Their targets, while not classed as particularly important individuals, were all, without exception, executed with professional ease.

Sauren was fiercely protective of Tiene too, both when they were at work and if they attended any events on behalf of the guild.

The one event she hated attending of course, was bi-annual Gathering. It was extremely difficult for her to divorce the past from this event, but she put on a brave face, often chanting prior to leaving for the festivities. She could not wait for the day when the pretence could stop however. Camnath, needless to say, never attended The Gathering again.

She still sat, either in her rooms or sometimes in the library, with her mind floating in the daydreams of yesteryear. His face, still so vivid. The stolen kiss, still sweet. She would smile wistfully at the memory, but always,  _always_ , it swirled and merged into the night he walked away with hurt in his eyes.

Sometimes when she walked on the battlements, or even through the city’s streets, she would think she caught a glimpse of him in the distance. She used to run towards where she’d seen him, but, he was never there. He had just been a figment of her imagination.

Information about Sauren’s suspicious dealings and meetings had been patchy for a long, long time. He had been very careful indeed in keeping his meetings secret. He only ever took his two favoured henchmen, making the excuse Brett was needed to oversee the guild in his absence.

A new network, organised by Belaen Bloodbane and a select few like-minded guild leaders, was used so Tiene and her allies could pass and read reports of the suspicious goings-on. As news of something ominous finally reached the ears of the guild leaders, and word of Sauren’s involvement became commonplace, so the new network increased in size. It was rigorously policed by Brett and Belaen. They still communicated through the main network with normal business and news as well, otherwise Sauren would have become suspicious.

Even Louvel, being a lone wolf, had also been able to find out snippets, and passed these on to Tiene during their meetings.

Eventually, word about Caer Darrow being used as a school of necromancy, the forbidden magic, was uncovered. It had taken a couple of years for it to be made ready, but it had indeed been Kel’Thuzad who run the school and taught willing acolytes. According to rumour, Sauren had been responsible for acquiring the premises on Kel’Thuzad’s behalf, the mage had paid him back. But, it was still a jigsaw with a missing piece. What would Sauren gain from this allegiance? The jury was still out on that one.

News of a strange cult was growing in the region. Alleged promises of eternal life having been offered to those who joined. The natives had been restless, tired and overworked and had been easy prey to convert to this new way of thinking. Whispers then spread Kel’Thuzad was using his ample fortune to gather a surreptitious brotherhood of like minded men and women. He was very cautious though, the affluent mage paid handsomely all those who worked to keep the cult’s purpose secret. The cult continued to grow.

Times were looking dark and one night, Tiene decided to try and enquire after Camnath through the new network. She could not bring herself to contact him directly, for she feared the lack of response more than anything. So, she opted for approaching Belaen, his guild leader. In her rooms, with a trembling hand, she started to write a note to the guild master.

_Dear Guild Master Bloodbane_

_This note is merely an enquiry as to how Camnath Sunspear is faring. Our correspondence over the past few years has depleted somewhat...._

She scrunched that attempt up and threw it in the fire to hide the evidence.

_Dear Guild Master Bloodbane_

_Please pass on my regards to Camnath Sunspear, I trust he is doing well..._

Another one for the fire.

She sat for a while trying to form in her mind the words she would write. Nothing seemed to be appropriate. Everything came out so formal and unfeeling. Then again, perhaps that was best? She was about to put pen to paper again when two hands slid over her shoulders and down over her breasts, squeezing them gently. She had not heard him enter the room and jumped when he touched her.

“Who are you writing to, Tiene?” Sauren’s gravelly voice asked. His voice did not convey that he suspected anything, nor did his touch.

She glanced sideways at the fire, praying the failed letters had not fallen out on to the hearth. They had not. “Inaris,” she replied.

“Can it wait?” The hunger in his voice was like a drug.

She put down the pen and stood up slowly, turning to face him. “Yes, it can wait.”

“Good. I need you. Now.”

He was already naked. Ready to please her. He pulled her close, the vial of lilac liquid he held to her lips, tipping its contents in her mouth. He kissed her neck as she swallowed, his tongue tracing the liquid’s path as it slipped over her throat. Then his mouth closed over hers passionately. She responded readily, as he expertly peeled away her clothing, his hands caressing her skin. He had become her addiction. Having followed Aledine’s advice, she had found herself unable to refuse him. Anything. He carried her to the bed, her limbs surrounding him.

The fire crackled and spit as the letters crisped, then flaked away in blackened segments, turning to ash.

In the aftermarth of their passion, he lay holding her, stroking her hair. She absentmindedly traced the serpent tattoo on his chest. Silence. It felt like a prelude to something, she knew not what.

“I have received a letter from Darkshire today,” he said out of the blue.

“Darkshire?” She was aware of the connection. His estranged wife still lived there.

“Yes. It is in response to one I sent two weeks ago. I have asked for a divorce.”

Tiene was surprised. His marriage was not something he spoke of at length, but he had mentioned it in the past and explained why it came to an end. Still, Piper’s name had not been uttered for a few years, so why now, she wondered.

“And? Is the response positive or negative?” she ventured hesitantly.

“Positive.”

She stopped tracing his tattoo. Why did she feel uncomfortable now? He grabbed her hand and rolled her over onto her back, gently lowering himself on her. He stared into her eyes for a few moments. “You must know what I am about to ask you, Tiene,” he said.

Her world, what was left of it, felt like it had caved in.  _S_ he had a horrible feeling what the next words out of his mouth were going to be.

“Marry me!” he said, the words tumbling out in a rushed breath.

She stared at him.  _No_ , this could not be happening. She could never marry him. Amazing sex was one thing, but to commit to him otherwise was utterly unthinkable.

“Be my wife. No more vials from our wedding night. Bear me sons, Tiene. They would be magnificient.”

A very loud knock came to the door. Tiene jumped. Sauren exhaled angrily, he was extremely irritated by the interruption. Whipping the covers back abruptly, he rose and strode towards the door, wrapping himself in a robe.

Tiene cautiously crawled to the end of the bed, listening carefully.

“Apologies, guild master, but there is a gentleman who wishes to speak with you urgently.” The voice was one of the pageboys, and he was nervous by the sound of it.

“He can wait!” Sauren snapped.

“He is very insistent, guild master. He says it is regarding your mutual friend, from Dalaran.”

Sauren growled. He was highly agitated at the intrusion. His voice was dark, low and threatening but Tiene couldn’t make out what he said to the boy next. Then he slammed the door.

She scrambled back to the top of the bed, just pulling the sheet about her as he stepped up to bed. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

“I don’t know!” he shouted at her. Seeing her flinch, he immediately apologised. “Forgive me, Tiene. I am not angry with you. We will continue wedding plans another time. I must go for now.” He placed his hand at the back of her head and drew her forward delivering a passionate kiss. Then he turned and left, once more slamming the door.

Wedding plans? No! She had to think how to delay this, if not get out of it altogether. Who was she kidding! She knew she would not get out of it, Sauren would not take no for an answer. He had obviously had this in mind since he sent his request for the divorce, if not long before that. It had been something she had not been prepared for though. Perhaps now would be a good time for him to ask her father’s permission though. Surely he would agree to going about things the right way? It would at least give her time. To do what though, she was unsure.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Sauren stormed into the missions room, his visitor sitting waiting for him.

“This had better be important Dar’khan. For one thing you took a huge risk  _to both of us_  by coming here!”

“Oh please, Sauren, give me some credit. You have known me for longer than I care to remember really, so you know that discretion is my middle name.” The Magister laughed lightly. When Sauren did not show any amusement at his quip, he quickly concluded huffily. “I am a mage after all. It’s not as if I have to  _walk_  in anywhere announcing my arrival.”

“So where did you  _pop_  in about?” Sauren glared at him.

“Here, of course. Luckily one of your little servants was next door.”

Sauren was pacing back and forth, still agitated.

Dar’khan noted the guild master’s attire. He grinned, a little bitterly. “So how is the lovely Firefury these days? I take it you were in the middle of  _her_ , when I arrived?”

“Watch your mouth, Magister!” Sauren growled, his eyes flashing a threat.

Dar’khan smiled back, completely unfazed by the guild master’s wrath. “I won’t keep you from her for long then,” he said.

“Just get on with it.”

Dar’khan smirked at Sauren’s obvious annoyance. “Our friend, Kel’Thuzad has been slain.”

“ _What_?” Sauren spun round, shock on his face.

Dar’khan went on to explain Prince Arthas had found the necromancer infecting the town of Brill. Having followed Kel’Thuzad to Andorhal, the prince learned that he had been using Andorhal as the base of operations for plague wagons. Confronting the mage, Arthas was informed about the plague of undead having infiltrated Stratholme and infecting all the citizens. The mage then told him the Burning Legion had masterminded the entire operation over years and the dreadlord Mal’ganis waited in Stratholme for the final stages to come to fruition. He then fled to Stratholme himself.

Arthas quickly followed and killed Kel’Thuzad. He then led an assault on the city, culling the infected and those yet to transform. After that Athas followed the dreadlord Mal’ganis to Northrend. The outcome of which, was still unknown.

“Damn it!” Sauren hissed. “Kel’Thuzad had guaranteed the guild’s safety from his army of undead. What was he thinking? What is going to happen to them now? They are still locked up in Scholomance I take it?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“What do you think Arthas will do now?”

“Try kill Mal’ganis of course,” Dar’khan replied as he studied his well manicured nails.

“Well of course!” Sauren sneered at the Magister’s snide remark. “But after...”

“We will need to wait and see, my friend. Perhaps, the dreadlord will kill Arthas and we will have no worries of him returning to seek retribution.”

“What about the necromancers, Kel’Thuzad’s students?”

“I’ll see to them, never fear. It is an art I have been dabbling in myself, after all.”

Sauren glanced sideways at the Magister. They tolerated each other, that was about the strength of the relationship. But, he had to hand it to Dar’khan, he was not stupid. He was a clever man who had sought endlessly for sources of magic in a bid extract their potency and increase his power. The fact he had come to tell him the news, spoke of trust to Sauren. He could have kept it quiet, and dealt with everything on his own, but he’d decided to forewarn the guild master.

“Alright, then. Do what you need to do. Should you hear of the prince’s return, let me know. I will do likewise.”

“Very well,” the Magister said, standing and brushing down his cloak. “I shall let you get back to ... more pleasurable things, then. I take it you would prefer I portal from here?”

Sauren stared at him from under his pale lashes. “Yes, go from here.” Dar’khan’s portal snuffed out with a pop, before Sauren left the room.

 

He bounded back up the stairs and entered Tiene’s room. As he approached her bed, he heard her breathing softly, and saw her eyelids flickering, as if in dreams.

He smiled. He would let her sleep. Settling the sheet and soft furs around them, he slid back in beside her, pulling her slim frame into his arms. Kissing her brow softly enough not to wake her, he held her gently. He had much on his mind now. Wedding plans would have to wait.

Tiene continued the pretence of sleep as she listened to his heart beating. Something was worrying him, she could tell. She knew not who his visitor had been but she knew it was linked to Kel’Thuzad, that much she deduced from what she had overheard from the pageboy.

Things seemed to be becoming undone, if she was not mistaken.


	29. The Accomplice And The Prince

* * *

Another batch of new trainees rolled in through the gates of Crimson Blade late summer and just as many also left. It was a sad time for Tiene in one way, some of her friends had decided to leave, but they would remain part of the guild, only work from their home base, wherever they decided that would be.

Only two of her group remained, Thil’las and Emmek, and they, like her, stayed on at the guild in a higher capacity than mere mature students. They became the new generation of trainers. And now they all lived in the towers, though the night elf and the dwarf were in the one across from Tiene.

On a sadder note they said goodbye to Ylwen, who decided to leave the guild and concentrate on family. A friendly gathering of trainers attended Capital Inn for a meal and a farewell drink with her. Two other trainers also retired, said they were leaving the task of developing young Blades to the newer, more agile ones. Tiene couldn’t help but feel they were all getting out before whatever was looming over the land, reached out and made its mark. She never voiced this to anyone, except Brett and her trustee fellow trainers Thil’las and Emmek, who were firmly on board with the conspiracy against Sauren.

During the retirement dinner, Tiene was delighted to meet up with Louvel and Fyn, who was paying one of his regular visits to the city. She introduced Brett, Thil’las and Emmek as they joined the rogue and little priest in Louvel’s favourite booth in the tavern. Conversation was hushed, peppered with light laughter and clinking of glasses to cover any suspicion that guarded secrets were being relayed.

“I have some news for you, which you are not going to like,” Louvel said to Tiene in particular. Glances flitted between her three Blade colleagues, a sense of dread weighing heavily on the noble rogue’s words.

“Tell me then,” Tiene said before taking a sip of wine.

“I was working on a recent little escapade in Eastweald. There, I found out there is someone working with your esteemed leader who you know quite well, if I recall from past conversations. And they are both linked to Kel’Thuzad...”

” _He’s_  dead, Arthas killed him,” Thil’las said quietly.

“Yes, I know, but his work lives on in Caer Darrow apparently. Only, a new face has taken on his role.”

Tiene sat forward. “As in teaching necromancy?”

“Whether he is teaching it or merely enjoying it I do not know, but he is a rather flamboyant character I hear, a bit like myself I guess,” Louvel said with a smirk as he lifted his glass.

“A name please?” Tiene said.

Leaning closer to her, Louvel whispered, “His name, is Dar’Khan Drathir.”

Tiene paled, her eyes wide. Thil’las and Emmek, being none the wiser, glanced at each other and shrugged. Brett’s brow furrowed. “Wasn’t that the name of the mage at Rhonin’s wedding...?”

“Yes,” Tiene replied, quite amazed that Brett recalled that, it was so long ago. Then again, Dar’Khan was not a man you met and forgot easily.

A riding glove landed with a slap on the table in front of the group. “Good evening,” Sauren said in a low rasp.

It took a conscious effort for Tiene not to show alarm at the sudden appearance of her guild leader. She looked round, a warm smile on her face. “I wondered if you would show for Ylwen’s dinner.”

“She was one of my finest, I had to come and say...goodbye,” his eyes lingered on Louvel before moving back to Teine and her collegues. “Not being rude, but why are you sitting here instead of with your guild group?”

Again, Tiene managed to hold a smile. “I was introducing Brett, Thil’las and Emmek to my friends,” she said. “And we are still waiting on our food anyway, so now was a good time. Would you care to join us?” She made a show of moving along to let him sit down.

Sauren looked at her, then around the group in the booth. After a moment he smiled. “No, thank you. I think I will sit with the others. I take it you will be returning to our table when dinner is served?”

“Indeed we will,” Tiene replied.

The guild leader turned to leave.

“Oh, Sauren,” Louvel said, lifting the riding glove from his table. “I think you forgot something,” he passed the glove to the platinum haired leader.

Sauren moved round to stand beside the noble rogue, the corners of his mouth twitching. “So I did,” he replied, snatching the glove from Louvel’s hand.

As the guild leader stepped down towards the guild’s table, his face conveyed a look that made Tiene wary. There was a tangible animosity between him and Louvel it seemed. They had been like old friends for long enough, but now, there was an atmosphere.

“Do not aggravate him Louvel,” she said in a whisper.

Louvel smiled reassuringly. “Do not worry, Tiene. I can look after myself. However my dear, I think it would be in  _your_  best interests if you joined him at the other table.”

“I need to know more about what you found out though,” she said.

“Nothing more to tell really, other than what I have already told you.”

“Keep me posted then please.” She stood, the others following her lead.

“I will,” he said raising his glass to her.

The group of Blades then went to sit beside their guild. Tiene moved to an empty seat beside Thil’las, but before she managed to pull the chair out, Sauren growled, “Not there, Tiene,” he said, his eyes flaring. He pushed out the chair next to himself. “Here.”

She smiled and took the seat he indicated. He inched his closer to hers and rested his arm around its back rest. It was a subtle show of ownership, not that she considered herself owned, but the alpha in Sauren did. She let it slide, as she often did, if it was prudent.

A small boy about six years old, ran out of the kitchen and round the tables, laughing. Sauren watched the boy, a slow smile curling his mouth. The boy ran past Sauren a few times and then, quick as a flash the guild master reached out and scooped him up, holding him in the air above his head. The boy continued giggling. Tiene watched, somewhat amazed as the platinum haired guild master laughed with the boy. “And what is your name, young man?”

“Billy!” the boy answered excitedly, flapping his arms as if he were a bird.

“You are a handsome boy, Billy,” Sauren said, lowering the young lad to the ground and ruffling his hair. “But you may get hurt if you run around like that in here.”

The boy stared at the guild master, suddenly in awe of the man who was playing with him. “No I won’t,” he replied. His little chubby face full of sparkle at seeing all the black leather armour and glinting blades in front of him. “Are you a soldier?”

“Sort of,” Sauren replied smiling broadly. “How come you are up so late anyway?” The guild master rested his elbow on his knee and leaned down so he was eye level with the boy. “Won’t your mama be angry at you being out of bed?”

“No, it was mama who brought me here because the lady who watches me when mama works couldn’t come tonight. She was sick.”

“Billy!” a voice called to the boy.

Billy spun round and smiled. “Mama!” He ran to the woman and hugged her skirts as she held up two plates of food intended for the guild table.

Tiene watched as Sauren’s posture changed suddenly, the smile from his face, vanished. Mama was the waitress who had been mesmerised by Sauren a few years back. She continued with her work and served Ylwen and one of the other trainers their meals.

“Mama, that man lifted me like I was a bird. I was flying!”

“Do not pester the customers Billy,” the woman said. “I am sorry,” she apologised to all at the guild table, Sauren included.

He straightened in his chair. “Where is the boy’s father?” he asked.

“He is the chef, sir,” she replied and looked directly at him. “He is cooking your dinner.”

“Ah,” said the guild leader.

“You needn’t have worried.  _Sir_.” she whispered, although Tiene overheard. She thought the waitress intended for her to hear actually. The waitress moved back to the kitchen for more of the table’s orders.

Tiene had gathered, once she understood his needs, that the waitress had been one of his late night pets. She had not known however, that the little boy could have possibly been Sauren’s son. And going by the look on his face when he saw who mama was, he had thought the same. She admired the woman though. She had apparently overcome her awkwardness around the guild leader, perhaps had even developed some sass around him.  _Surviving Sauren was possible then_ , she mused.

Those little vials obviously were a later addition for his menagerie.

He looked at her, gauging her reaction. She gave no hint as to what she was thinking and that was how she was going to play it. She would not question it. She would not discuss it. She would not express an opinion if he asked. Her concern was it may put him in mind to discuss having sons with  _her_ again. Avoidance would hopefully be a good move. She did however, admit to herself, he had been good with the boy.

The rest of the evening was amiable enough. Sauren seemed to relax, particularly when he saw Louvel leaving with his little priest friend. They did come to the table to say goodnight to Tiene, all under the watchful eye of Sauren, who merely nodded his farewell. All in all, the guild had seen Ylwen and the other trainers off nicely.

Later that night, thankfully his angst towards Louvel did not surface. Nor did the subject of little Billy, or any possible future Billy’s for that matter. Sauren simply handed her a vial, took his pleasure then held her and drifted off to sleep. He was indeed a complicated man at times.

As she closed her eyes, she thought of Dar’Khan’s involvement. Strangely, that unnerved her more than anything she knew about Sauren did, so far anyway. The Magister had always been hungry for more power. He had even told her himself that it was in his nature to always want more. He had been embittered against the Magisters on Quel’Danas and their seeming inability to reward his efforts for the elven nation. There was an underlying threat here though, something which unsettled her greatly, and she could not quite work it out. She would soon find out however, in the weeks to come.

Everything seemed to turn back to normal. Trainers trained the recruits, missions were carried out, orders were obeyed. Life went on as usual in Capital City.

Yet, there was an ominous cloud hanging over the new rogue network. Strange things were coming through in reports. Talk of plague still, strange lumbering things that were neither alive nor dead seen in the north. Rumours abound once more of ghostly apparitions roaming the cellars of the once great human fortress, Caer Darrow. Scholomance had been vacated of its acolytes, and the flamboyant Magister had not been seen again for a while. Where he had gone was undetermined.

 

* * *

* * *

 

One early autumn afternoon, prince Arthas had returned to his home in Capital City. People had cheered for the prince’s return home, he was being hailed a hero. The citizens felt safe, he had cleansed the plague ridden Stratholme and the surrounding villages some time ago, before vanishing to Northrend to vanquish a servant of the Burning Legion. Now he had come home.

They were not to know that he had returned to them a changed man however. He was dark, driven by an unseen force with an agenda of its own.

He had kneeled in front of the king’s throne, welcomed as any son would be by a proud father, only to run the king through with a cursed blade he had found in Northrend, called Frostmourne. The city was left in shock, grieving their king. The prince was now declared mad having fled the city after the murder.

Sauren himself had been nowhere to be seen all that afternoon, along with some of his faithful followers including his trusty henchmen. He had merely said, as he often did, that he and his troupe had a mission to carry out. But when news of the king’s death had reached the ears of those inside the guild walls, Sauren arrived back with his men.

Everyone was stunned by what had happened. It was then that talk of The Lich King reached the ears of the common folk. The Lich King, who was a puppet of the Burning Legion. Everything was revolving around the Burning Legion. A powerful foe, thought gone from the lands of Azeroth since the War of The Ancients, was rising again, recruiting new disciples, manipulating those in positions of power, seducing them with more power, more glory, perhaps immortality. Minions were one thing, but there had to be a particular reason for the cultivation of so many.

It was then, that Tiene was driven to write a particular letter to her brother Inaris. She begged him not to tell her father what she would divulge and also begged him, Duthan and even Lor’themar not to try and be heroes either. She had coped with certain things for a number of years now and would continue to do so. Yes, she had kept it all from them on her visits home, but it was necessary then.

Now, she felt it was time. Time for truth.


	30. The Culling Of Capital City

* * *

The city was in panic, screams were heard over the Crimson Blades walls, followed by some of the most inhumane sounds to ever reach the ears of living souls. The scourge was sweeping through the city, necromancers were raising the dead, making them animated, rotting, stinking corpses that joined in the slaughter of the citizens in the city. The shambling, lurching creatures reported in the north had come to Capital City and the surrounding villages and towns. Lordaeron was being eaten alive.

Some senior students under the direction of Don, one of Sauren’s henchmen, had closed the portcullis to the guild grounds, barricaded the entrance further with carts, bales of hay, barrels, whatever they could find. Brett then gathered everyone into the halls and closed the doors, locking them with the large wooden spars.

Tiene stood at the heavy doors with Brett. “This isn’t right, Brett, what good are we in here?” she whispered. “And where is Sauren, he should be here helping to defend?”

“I don’t know where he is Tiene, and that is the truth. Just before dawn he came to me and let me know that Don, with some of the seniors were going to be trying a new exercise in defending the grounds and said we were to follow their instructions so that the exercise went according to plan. Sauren does this sort of thing often enough, as you know, I did not think it was out of the ordinary. Then he left with his rest of his troupe.”

“An  _exercise_? You think this is all about an exercise _now_ , Brett? Listen to the noise coming from the city! We should be out there fighting and helping the people!”

“I hear what you’re saying Tiene, and yes, I agree. But, the young ones cannot fight what is out there, they are only starting their training. Even the ones in their second and third year are not equipped for this. Don has ordered we keep them in here for their own safety.”

That was a fair enough point, granted, but it still did not explain the whereabouts of their leader nor that so many able-bodied fighters were locked inside also. There were enough seniors, trainers and officials in the halls to make a difference to whatever was going on in the city, surely. She paced back and forth in front of the heavy doors, deep in thought. And why was Brett taking orders from Don? Turning to him again, she whispered. “Let me out of here, Brett.”

“What? No chance Tiene, have you heard what’s going on out there? Don has ordered me to keep you all safe.  _Particularly_  you, I hasten to add.” There it was again!  _Don_  ordered.

“Brett! Is this how Sa’themar would have wanted it? He spent his life training rogues to be fighters not to hide away in fear. And what is this with Don giving out the orders now?  _You_  are second in command!”

Brett’s face flushed. She had hit a raw nerve.

Her heart sank. Sauren had turned his back on Brett. “He’s demoted you hasn’t he?”

Brett nodded his head. “I knew it was coming, Tiene. I was never really his choice for the post, I was only there because Sa’themar had me as his right hand man. I think he just keeps me around now out of some sort of sentiment to his father.”

“So it’s Don who’s second in command now, I take it?”

“Yes.”

She should have noticed. Over time, Brett had been left out of more and more things to do with the running of the guild. He was too proud to have come and told her of the change though. Perhaps she  _had_  noticed, but was just glad he was still around for her. “Sorry, Brett,” she said looking at him sideways.

“Don’t be, Tiene, to be honest I prefer it this way. I was actually considering retiring altogether come the Feast of Winter Veil.”

She nodded. She could understand, but she would be sorry to see him go. Then an idea struck her. “Don’t you fancy having one more fight though, Brett? A chance to make a difference – for Sa’themar? For the past glory of the guild?”

Brett sighed bowing his head as he stood with hands clasped in front of him. He looked up through his floppy brown hair, a grin spreading on his face. “Hell, yes!”

She smiled and together they gathered a task force from the able-bodied rogues within the halls and forming a plan to get out of the grounds. Others, with perhaps less experience in the field, but adequately qualified to fight in a stand-off, would remain inside, protecting the recruits and defending them if necessary. They were told to barricade the doors once Tiene and company left.

Checking through the slats between the great doors, Brett signalled it was clear for them to move out, but warned all to exercise caution, they could not afford to alert Sauren’s new bloods. He did not think it would be go down too well that they had failed to keep their guild contained. They all stealthed. Those remaining, closed the doors quietly and put the heavy wooden bars back in place.

Exiting through the portcullis of course was now impossible plus it was not only barricaded, but guarded. Sa’themar’s loyalists crept their way along the edge of the courtyard and up into the tower where Tiene and Sauren’s rooms were. From there they could access one of the balconies which they could then jump down on the walkways and vault over the walls. This was clear passage to the city. Tiene stopped to look over the courtyard before she crossed over the wall with Brett. Keeping her voice low in case any of the new bloods were in the shadows she voiced an observation to Brett. “How come they barricaded the entrance yet nothing seems to want to come in anyway?”

Brett followed her gaze. “You’re right, nothing has even tried to attack or scale it.”

“I think they were more trying to keep us in than keep something out, Brett.”

Thil’las arrived behind them, his eyes wide. “You better come and see this,” he breathed.

They moved out over the top of the walkway, onto the wall and looked down into the city. A mass of bloodied, grey, torn flesh and rattling bones progressed through the streets. Tiene’s eyes widened at the horrors below as they snarled and gnashed their way into public buildings, shops, and homes. She watched, mortified, as the creatures tore down men, women and children running, screaming from the buildings trying to escape. Their limbs were torn from them, they were mauled, shredded and left in piles of bloodied mush on the roads and pavements. Animals squealed, grunted and brayed, they too were slaughtered as wave after wave of hideous, monstrous, undead creatures swarmed through the city’s trade centre. The smell of death and decay rose in the air.

Tiene turned and vomited. Brett rubbed her back in a bid to soothe her, while trying hard to keep his own bile from rising. They had never seen the likes of this before and neither had they seen anything on this scale. The city was literally being erased before their very eyes.

More nightmares continued as a line of necromancers followed after the foul creatures. They would stop at some of the corpses and after chanting and waving of their arms, the mangled forms on the ground moved, hitched and jerked, rising in front of them. Slowly, the abominations shambled forward, mindlessly following those that had taken their lives. Again, Tiene threw up.

Thil’las looked at Brett and Tiene, fear written clearly on his face. “We cannot hope to defeat all those. We will be lucky if we manage more than twenty.” He covered his mouth with his hand and mumbled, “Thank Elune I do not have kin down there.”

Tiene’s eyes widened yet again. She did not have kin in the city either, but she had friends. Good friends. She inhaled so sharply she almost choked. No!! Please!  _Not them!_

She pulled away from Brett and crept further along the wall. All the others were still watching the hideous display below. Tiene shook her head. “Thil’las is right, we cannot hope to make even a dent in their numbers. And I will not allow any of you to put yourselves in danger of becoming...like those... _things_!” She was struggling to speak, her breath coming in short sharp bursts as she continued to battle with her nausea.

But she did need to know one thing. “I am telling you all now, return to the halls. For a reason I do not yet understand, you will be safe in there. Nothing is going to breach the guild walls.”

“Tiene?” Brett stepped nearer her. “Come back from the edge, Tiene.”

She was gauging the drop and scanning the ground ahead.

“Tiene!”

She snapped her head round at the older rogue. “I’m sorry Brett, seems like this will not be your last fight after all. I am ordering you to go back with the others.”

Brett’s eyes widened. ” _You_  are ordering  _me_?”

“Yes! I hate to do this to you Brett, but I think my standing with the guild master gives me more authority than you, right now.”

His nostrils flared but he remained as calm as possible under the circumstances. “I am still responsible for looking after  _you_  in his absence. Even Don told me that!”

“Well, I’m giving you the day off!” she said. Before he could do anything she had leaped over the wall and landed in a somersault at the bottom. She quickly glanced up to see them all looking down at her. There was only one way she knew they would not,  _could_  not follow her. “Onas thuash d’aresh alsu o’doreu,” she whispered.

“Where the hell did she go?” Brett gasped staring down at the spot she had landed.

“I do not know,” Thil’las replied, looking anxiously down at the same spot. “She has just ... vanished!”

The night elf and the human stared at each other then the rest of the group. They were all still stealthed, but Tiene! She was nowhere.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Tiene made her way round the back of the buildings and up onto their roofs. This way she could keep just behind the creeping mass of animated corpses. She crouched and ran, somersaulting and tumbling over the buildings, landing lightly on her feet. Her stomach lurched with every move, but she  _had_  to reach the inn. She  _had_  to know.

The sounds from the vile creatures on the street were now invading her mind. Gurgling, groaning, moaning, wheezing, retching. The sounds of their torn flesh slapping against bone or it tearing as flaps of skin caught on upturned wagons and stalls then stretched and ripped like wet fabric. Dull thuds sounded as limbs came undone and lay twitching on the ground. She had to pause and take deep breaths through her mouth, for the stench was intolerable.

Just up ahead she saw the signage for The Capital Inn dangling on one chain now. She slowed, waiting to see if anything emerged from the building. She could see the flash and glow of the necromancers spells further up the street. Her heart was hammering. The creatures of death would not see her, but the necromancers might, being attuned to magic. She had to make sure none of the spell weavers were nearby. She waited a few moments more, then slowly eased herself through one of the upper windows of the inn.

Once inside, she stepped carefully, trying to make sure no creaky floorboards gave her location away. She listened. No sounds. She moved along the hall and peered over the railings. The dining area seemed deserted, although there was evidence that there had been some clientelle earlier. Innards slopped off a table near the door, blood decorated the floor. She momentarily closed her eyes, trying to erase every foul image she had been witness to, but knew it was a lost cause. With a deep, quiet breath, she opened her eyes again and continued down the stairway.

A noise from the kitchen made her stop rigid. She heard muffled crying. Slowly, she crept round the doorway and looked into the kitchen. A fire still burned in one of the stoves giving what would normally be a warm and welcoming glow, an eerie feel to the room. She inched round past the larder and two giant sacks that held simple flour and confectioner’s sugar. The one with sugar was ripped. A strange sucking noise came from just to the right of it. Still wary, Tiene poked her head round.

There on the floor, was little Billy, sticking his hand in the torn sack of sugar and sucking the sweetness from his fingers. He made almost happy gurgling sounds. As she watched, his fingers slid from his mouth, as did the skin from his fingers. Tiene clasped her hand to her mouth, struggling not to cry out. The once little chubby face looked in her direction.

“Mama?” he said, blood pouring from his mouth, filled with grains of sugar. One eye bounced on his cheekbone, dangling by its optic nerve. The other was gone, lying on the floor by the torn sugar bag.

“Billy, darling, where are you?” the waitress’ voice sounded directly behind Tiene. She quickly slipped out of the way and saw the once attractive mother of the little boy kneel down to her son. The right hand side of her face was torn and hanging in strips, her jaw bone and teeth showing through. Her eyes half blinded, opaque but still darting about in their sockets. She tried to place her son’s dangling eyeball back in its socket, but as Billy leaned down for another handful of sugar, the orb tumbled out again.

Tiene was shaking, fighting back the tears of seeing such horror. She knew she had no choice. They could not continue as they were. They had to be put out of their misery. Quietly, carefully she unsheathed her daggers. The woman’s head twitched as she heard a small sob from behind her. She stood as another wracking sob came from Tiene. As she turned to face the rogue, both daggers crossed in front of her neck. The next sound was the thud of her head hitting off the sack of sugar and onto the floor.

“Mama?” little Billy smiled. Quickly, the little boy’s head joined that of his mother’s.

Tiene stumbled out of the kitchen and hurled what little stomach contents she had left over the bar.

“Hey! Do you mind!” a voice from behind the bar said. Scuffling followed and a little sharp intake of breath. Slowly Tiene stretched herself over the bar counter. She caught sight of a bright blue jacket.

“Louvel!” she gasped and ran round the side of the counter.

“Stay back, whoever you are!”

“Sha’al,” she said, revealing herself to the noble rogue and kneeling down beside him.

“I said stay back!” he held up a hand to ward off the approaching figure.

Tiene’s eyes filled once more as she saw his hand, strips of flesh and showing all the metacarpals. ” _No!_ ” she wailed her voice disappearing into sobs. He turned his face towards her, his monocle falling out as he raised his eyebrow, the other being limp in a fine thread of skin over his cheek.

“Ah, Tiene!” he said. “Nice of you to join us,” he lifted a glass, half empty of his favourite Brightsong wine. “I’d offer you one my dear, but most of the glasses seem broken.”

Tiene wept, rocking on her knees. A shuffle behind Louvel made her look round his torn and battered body. Purple robes with golden runes flinched. She couldn’t speak, her breathing was erratic, fighting the sobs as Fyn’s little face, peered round Louvel’s shoulder. He too had been victim. His scalp was torn, and a flap lay over his ear. He held out a hand to her, his little knuckles all scuffed and bloodied. She took it gently and his bony fingers curled round her soft ones.

“You know the best part of this Tiene?” Another voice, this time from over the bar counter. She looked up into the haunted eyes of Lexie, her mouth slit almost from one ear to the other. She tried to hold up the flesh as she spoke, but little blood spatters flicked onto Tiene.

The rogue was speechless. Her three friends! All of them had been butchered and reanimated.

Lexie continued. “The best bit is, who did this,” she laughed, cackled really. “You think it was those creatures out there don’t you?”

Tiene nodded, finally finding a faint voice, “I saw them doing it to others.” She looked back at Louvel. He was trying to drink his wine, but it just spilled from his blue lips.

“Oh they’ve been busy yes, but they didn’t finish us three. Oh no! We got special treatment,” Lexie said.

Tiene was fighting down the sobs, starting to get her breath back. ” _Who_ , then?”

“Whipper-snapper!” Louvel spat, a huge glob of blood hitting the floor. ” _He_  did it. Only us three though. He must have led the way for the others however, for they came shortly after.”

Tiene’s stomach began to contract again. Sauren did this to her friends?

“You know what he thought, Tiene?” Louvel said looking at her with his lop-sided face. “He thought you and I... when he was away on business,” he gestured between them both. He laughed. “He was jealous, ha ha.”

Tiene shook her head. “I am so...so..sorry, my friends,” she bent over wracked by sobs again.

“Oh my dear, ’tis not your fault,” Fyn said in his still comforting, timid voice. “The man is a brute. You, my dear, are kind and decent.”

Tiene cried openly. She was anything but decent. All these years, being with a monster.  _Addicted_  to a monster!

“He had the balls to spill everything when he drove his blades in deep,” Lexie said. “But he didn’t reckon on one of those necromancers finding us, did he?” she cackled again.

“Listen well Tiene, for you have much work in front of you, and much sorrow I’m afraid.”

Louvel laid his torn hand on Tiene’s knee. “We will tell you what he and his accomplices have done and what they are still going to do.”

“Then, my friend,” Lexie said, “- come back to us, once you have dealt with Sauren Nightflame.”


	31. The Reaper Outside His Door

* * *

She had returned to the guild grounds, using her stealth in magic, knowing the other rogues, Sauren’s new bloods included, would not have been able to detect her. Sauren was still nowhere to be seen. The portcullis was still barricaded. She found Brett and asked that he summon his men into the library where she would access the secret room for operations.

She spilled everything about Louvel, Fyn and Lexie, the fact that they were now undead, and all they had told her. Brett tried to calm her, she was still deeply distressed and feeling continually nauseous.

Brett said he would get the Sa’themar loyalists in position and they would finally overthrow Sauren for his deceit and treachery. He wanted Tiene to leave the grounds along with her troupe so that the deed could be done. She would hear none of it. She was going to be the one to do it.

“Tiene, you know his abilities. With all due respect, he would make short work of you if you attempted to attack him. Let us deal with him.”

She regained her poise, her determination. “No, Brett. I have one major advantage over  _twenty_  of you.”

The burly man started to protest, but she held her hand up to silence him. “I know his greatest weakness, and trust me, your troupe are  _not equipped_  to deal with  _that_.”

Some of the loyalists shifted on uneasy feet while others hid smirks and suppressed laughter. Brett looked embarrassed and concerned at the same time. “Tiene, you do not need to ...”

“Enough, Brett. He is mine!” Tiene psyched herself up for the task ahead. She still saw doubt in Brett’s eyes, though to be fair to the man, it was his friendship with her father that made him so protective towards her. She sighed. “He has had me for quite a few years now, Brett. I’m not exactly new to it. Do not worry. All your men need to do is dispatch his new bloods and then burn the corpses. We don’t want those coming back as undead. Just wait until you see my signal.”

He nodded slowly. “You should also know, Belaen and other leaders are making haste and are on their way, but they may not reach us until tomorrow.” He told her. Their new network was still operational at least, and major thanks to some mages who were good friends. They had been busy portalling messages over the past few weeks.

She sighed. More allies were needed. It would be a hard fight against the new bloods, they out-numbered the loyalists now by ten to one.

Sauren Nightflame an ambitious man, could be brutal, possessive, jealous, cruel and full of rage. He could also be kind, tender, almost loving, and he had been with her, mostly. But now he had truly done the unthinkable. Personally killing her friends for starters. The wonderful Louvel, a family man who Sauren had developed some insane, unfounded jealousy. Lexie, who had first opened Tiene’s eyes to the kind of man Sauren was, and had eluded her death sentence for years. And poor dear sweet Fyn, the most innocent of them all, probably for nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The arrogance of the guild leader was on full display however when he told her friends, as he was killing them, all that he had done and what was yet to happen.

It had been on Arthas’ return to the Eastern Kingdoms from Northrend, that Dar’khan, who had also been enticed by the call of the Lich King, sought him out and in return for power unequalled in  _his_  field, he promised Arthas he would gain him access to Quel’thalas to make use of the Sunwell to resurrect the mage Kel’Thuzad. The prince saw the greed for power in the Magister and knew he would be most useful for his plans.

Dar’khan convinced Arthas that Sauren and his Crimson Blade guild could also assist in the prince’s assault on Capital City. He had after all played a major part in setting up Kel’Thuzad in his school of necromancy, a source of magic which Arthas’ army would benefit greatly from in the new order of things to come. And as one of the most influential rogue leaders in the Eastern Kingdoms, Sauren was a powerful ally to have. It was agreed. So, Sauren’s new bloods had dispatched the king’s guards in the Keep, ensuring no resistance to Arthas’ plan. Then, the prince killed his own father, King Terenas Menethil. The way was now open for the pending onslaught of the scourge which Arthas released upon the city mere weeks later and was guided through the city by none other, than Sauren himself.

Sauren’s deal with the mad prince had ensured the Crimson Blade impunity, but the entire area was starting to fall apart. Races were shifting allegiances and with his selective few, new bloods as they were commonly called, carrying out orders aiding the scourge, there was now rebellion brewing within the small stronghold with the Sa’themar loyalists rising.

Sauren had to be dealt with. And the only one who could do it, was Tiene. Why did part of her not want to do this, after all that he had done and was responsible for? Could she possibly harbour some sort of feelings for him after all? Something she had not been prepared for nor thought possible?

No.

But he  _had_  become her addiction, her guilty pleasure. He was all she had known for years.

There was no denying he had made her the best she could be, as a rogue. He had invested much in her, both in time and training, working with her on many missions and helping her perfect her skills. He had focused on their building a kindred spirit in their thinking, their movements, executions. They had synchronicity and had been a formidable team. Always, he’d watched her back.  _No-one_  and  _nothing_ was allowed to harm her.

This man had claimed her though, deceitfully, ruining her dreams of being with her true love, who she still dreamt of to this day. Camnath, whose eyes, so full of hurt years ago, would haunt her forever more. When the ebony haired elf walked out of her life that night, he took her heart with him and all that was left was an empty shell, enslaved to an insatiable lover, who became her addiction.

As for Sauren’s accomplice, Dar’Khan, he had betrayed her people, including his ‘friend’ and her adopted brother, Lor’themar Theron. Previous communiqué with Lor’themar had informed her, the elf gates, magic seals which protected the land, were safe. Only he and a select few knew their locations and so the borders would remain intact against invasion. She had great faith in her adopted brother and the Rangers abilities, but she now knew Dar’Khan was a traitor. He had in fact been one of those few who learned of the elf gate locations, albeit underhandedly no doubt, and he was leading Arthas through Quel’Thalas right now to reach the Sunwell. Once there Arthas would use its powers to resurrect Kel’Thuzad. He in turn, would open the doors to bring the Burning Legion to Azeroth.

Although she desperately wanted to head home and ensure her family were safe, she had no alternative but to take down the guild leader of the Crimson Blade first. He was just as guilty as Dar’Khan in all of this horror and tragedy.

Still... she had to compose herself. Visions of her three friends and all those poor souls in the city haunted her and she had hide the tears that were so close to spilling again. If he saw any hint of them, he would know.

This had to be her greatest performance yet.

 

* * *

* * *

 

She heard the new bloods clearing the courtyard and the way to the portcullis. He was back.

She had spent time making sure she was presentable to him. He would no doubt be in his usual frame of mind when returning from a hectic mission. Hungry. Her pots of magic liberally used, she donned the scantiest red outfit she owned, thigh length boots, and a full swirling, red, netherweave cloak. Her daggers strapped on her back and hips, including her favourite throwing ones to her thighs and wrists and upper arms. It always excited Sauren to see her sexy, but deadly too.

She went out onto the walkway overlooking the courtyard and stood at the railings, watching as he dismounted his mustang. He was met by Don and together they crossed over the courtyard. Don was talking to him animatedly when he glanced up and halted. A slow, lustful smile crept on his face. Sauren, was suddenly aware his new right hand man had stopped walking and turned to see what the problem was. Then he followed Don’s gaze.

On top the railings stood Tiene, perfectly balanced with hands on hips, her red cloak rippling in the updraft of the breeze. Her outfit, showing more of her than it really covered, flitted into view every now and again as the cloak buffeted out from her body. Sauren grinned, a low predatory growl sounding in his throat. Then quickly he turned and punched his right hand man square in the face, bloodying his nose. Don was stunned at the sudden impact on his face, but immediately averted his gaze, apologising.

Sauren took off at a run closing the distance between him and the entrance to his tower. Don chanced another glance up at the railings. She was still there, the cloak now billowing out behind her and her body on full show to all who dared look. “Lucky bastard,” he muttered under his breath. She grinned down at the right hand man before she turned and made her way back into the tower.

She was waiting for him, resting her behind on the opulent desk he had beside his window.  _The_  desk, she thought as she stroked her fingers over the smooth varnished surface and glanced at the sacred drawer of lilac elixirs. She would take his stock of those, although she doubted they would be used. Meantime, she emptied one near the window and hid the bottle in her cloak.

He burst through the door, his breathing heavy, eyes dark and wild. Casting off his riding coat, he strode purposefully towards her, pulling his shirt out from the waistband of his britches and off over his head. He was almost upon her when he stopped abruptly, his braids swinging over his shoulder.

All he could see of her face was her mouth from under the hood of her cape. Her smile seductive, glistening in a cherry red gloss.

Her heel just dug into the middle of his chest. Leg bent, she allowed him just a shade nearer before she extended again, pushing him back. His hand caressed her calf, feathery touches working their way up her thigh. She pushed him back again, breaking the contact. A single laugh tumbled from his mouth, the perfect teeth flashed. He liked this game, she could tell.

She swirled round to the back of the desk, her movement giving him a tantalising glimpse of her scantily clad body beneath the ample fabric of her cloak. She heard him opening the drawer.

“No need,” she purred.

His response was hesitant, a little sound of almost hope hung in his one word reply, “No?”

She held up the empty vial and gave him a sideways look. “Already taken care of.”

“Ah.” He closed the drawer. “I thought perhaps, you had been thinking on our discussion a little while back.” He moved round the opposite side of the table to meet her.

She turned and faced the other way, slinking back round to the side of the desk. “Oh, you mean sons?”

“Yes,” he breathed, stepping quicker towards her, his fingers crossing the desk top varnish. The circuit of the desk had become almost a tarantella. “They would be fine, strong sons, Tiene.”

“Something must come before them, though,” she smiled.

“Practice?” he grinned mischievously, tilting his head.

“Oh, we have had lots of that over the years, Sauren,” she deftly dodged his hand as he tried to grab her. Turning at the opposite side of the desk, hands on the decoratively carved edge, facing her ravenous guild master, she cooed, “Didn’t you speak of ... marriage?” She beckoned him with her forefinger.

His smile widened. “I did, and my proposal just needs an answer.” He slid his fingers into the tight pocket of his britches and pulled out a gold ring. “I have this ready for you,” he said.

“Hold on to it for me,” she smiled.

His perfect teeth flashed in a broad smile and he clasped the ring in his left hand. With a wide sweep of his arm he rid the desk surface of papers, seals, wax, quills and corked ink bottles, then crawled slowly onto the desk. She indicated for him to turn and lie down on his back. Like an obedient puppy he did as she bade, watching her closely as she continued her circuit of the desk until she arrived at his feet. Her eyes roamed up his leather clad calves, thighs, and onto the ties of his britches, straining against his already hardened, pulsing organ. She sighed.

So quick he barely saw it, she did a full body flip onto the desk, one foot landing dangerously close to his prized possession, the other level with his waist. The fabric of her cloak floating around her semi-crouched frame. She smirked as he’d flinched at her move. She stood straight, looking down at him, studying the serpent and dagger tattoo that started just below his collarbone and ended half way down his abdomen. It pulsed and heaved, his anticipation almost tangible. She could not deny he was physically perfect.

Their eyes met. For the first time he was like one of the woodland creatures back home, mesmerised by the predatory lynx as it neared its prey. She laughed lightly. “You enjoying this sexy little show, Sauren?” she ran her tongue over her top lip.

He nodded, “Oh yes.  _Very_  much.” His growing hunger made his voice even more raspy.

“Am I ...  _superior_?” She shifted her right foot just a little to torment him.

“Definitely,” he breathed, one hand stroking her ankle at his waist. “Just watch where you step, please.” He guarded his manhood with his other. He grinned.

She smiled. “Do I seem... _dangerous_?”

“Hopefully.” His brown eyes were almost black as they dilated fully.

“Do I seem ... _powerful_?” She put her hands on her hips.

“Absolutely.”

In her mind’s eye she lifted a glass in salute to Aledine, her mentor of all things deliciously seductive and pleasurable.

She raised her hand to the clasp of her cloak. Undoing it, the fabric cascaded down over his legs. He groaned, his protective hand now trying to quickly undo the ties of his britches. He wanted her so badly.

“I wonder...”

He looked at her questioningly as he continued unlacing his britches, the perfect teeth glinting between his moist lips.

“Did they think  _you_  looked superior, dangerous and powerful when you stood over  _them_?”

His brow creased in confusion. ” _What_? Who?”

She moved into a half crouch, then pushed herself up in the air. She had time to see both his hands covet his precious loot before she came crashing down, the heel of her right hand boring down onto his chest just below his breastbone. She vaulted off onto the floor beside him.

She studied his frozen face, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. His hands still protecting himself, his body was now rigid all over, not just under his hands.

Tiene leaned over his face. Only his eyes could move. “Why, Louvel, Fyn and Lexie of course,” she said. “Here’s the good part though, Sauren. They still  _live_!”

Fear filled every nerve ending of the Crimson Blade master, yet he could not move. Inside his head he was roaring at her, screaming. Begging.

She jumped back up on the table and unsheathed her mother’s blades from her back. She held them in front of his face. “Recognise these Sauren? Your father had them specially made for my mother.” She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he could not speak, she would have loved to have heard his response. Still, she was not here for amusement. “You will take no more from me, Sauren Nightflame. You robbed me of my true love, my friends, my purity.  _No more_!”

His eyes darted in their sockets.

“I am Tiene Firefury, seductress, lover, assassin and thief. I am friend to those deserving and enemy to those unworthy. I am vengeance, justice.” A smile so cruel crossed her mouth. “And I am the reaper outside your door, Sauren Nightflame.”

With all her weight behind her strike she drove the blades into his heart and brachial artery under his arm, the blades jarring against bone, reverberating up her arms. Taking four small blades from both her upper arm wraps she drove two each into his jugular and temple. The sickening squelch as it entered the vein almost made her gag but she fought it down and forced the one through the temple, watching his eye fill with blood as found its home.

Paralysed throughout, the only movement in his body had been from her driving the blades home. Slowly, she rose above him once more. Pain clutched her chest, tears burned. Snot, unexpectedly ran from her nose. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

She watched as he bled out on the desk, the pool growing larger and dripping over the edge. Once he stopped breathing, she stepped down and lit the candle at the window to signal the deed was done.

 

* * *

* * *

 

A band of loyalists burst in several minutes later and found the half naked form of Sauren Nightflame sprawled on the desk, partially covered in Tiene’s cloak. The pool of blood was still spreading and dripped off the edges of the desk, splattering on the wooden floor. Strands of his platinum hair were soaked through in the red fluid. Two daggers embedded in his chest, one in the heart, the other just under his armpit severing the brachial artery. Two short blades pushed to their hilts in his jugular and another two into his temple. A gasp came from some of the men. “She made short work of him,” one of them whispered.

“Not so powerful now, is he?” another laughed.

One of them lifted the cloak covering his lower body. “Nor upstanding!” laughter spread through the men.

“It is no laughing matter! Get rid of him. Burn him!” Tiene’s voice shot across the room from the window. The men spun round, startled at the ferocity in her voice. She remained in the shadows, but they could see the fresh blood on her skin glistening in the strands of moonlight through the window. The men lowered their heads and their voices.

Brett signalled for them to remove the corpse. They ripped down one of the drapes and wrapped his limp carcass within, then left the room.

Turning towards the window where she stood, he watched, as she slowly slid down to the floor and fought to stop herself from crying. He walked over and knelt beside her, removing his own cloak to cover her modesty. She drew it round her shoulders as she continued to stare out of the window, her mind seeing a ghost on the battlements with a flowing ebony ponytail, yet again. A simple blink, and he was gone.

She glanced down at the ring she had collected from his corpse. It had been Sauren’s final gift for her. Her emotions were all over the place. “ _Why_ do I grieve for him, Brett? I should be rejoicing that he is gone.”

The burly rogue shook his head and sighed. “He was all you have known, for years, Tiene. He made you what you are today – strong, wilful, decisive ... deadly. He did, regardless of his traits and failings,  _truly believe_  in your skills as an assassin and, perhaps, as a future leader?”

“Then did I betray him?” she gulped back a sob with a wan smile on her lips.

Brett put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “No Tiene.  _He_  betrayed us  _all_. All you have done, is right a terrible wrong.” She did not know it, but he also spoke of the ebony haired elf, who still resided in her heart. “The other guilds arrived on time by the way. They are dispatching the new bloods as we speak.”

She nodded, suddenly very, very, tired. She leaned her head against Brett’s shoulder, glancing at the pool of blood on the desk, a few drops still hitting the floor. She would miss Sauren. For a while. It would take time to come up from the well she had lived in for years. It was a journey she feared, for she knew not what waited at the surface. She somehow dreaded the thought that she would feel lonely without him, that she may find herself regretting killing the monster who had carved his way into her life and her bed.

“Shorel’aran*, Sauren,” she whispered, letting the ring fall to the ground. It bounced with a tiny tinging sound and rolled over to under the desk where its owner had bled out. Clasping Brett’s tunic, her tears flowed freely, shoulders shuddering, as he rocked her gently, stroking her hair to comfort her.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Outside on the battlements, to the left of the great windows, a figure stood with his back against the wall. Tiene had almost caught him watching but he reckoned he had stealthed in time.  _Onas thuash d’aresh, lso o’doreu,_ he had never forgotten what she had taught him. He was hitting the back of his head off the wall, trying to rationalise his decision not to leap through that window the moment she had driven the daggers into Sauren Nightflame’s body. He had so wanted to grab her and pull her into his arms, assuring her all was well now. But he couldn’t do it.

The ebony-haired elf folded, hands on knees, taking great gulps of air. The Crimson Blade leader’s death had been both immensely satisfying yet horrific to witness. Worse than that however, had been the look on Tiene’s face when she turned to the window. A look which he could not describe but sensed it held a torment he did not even understand.

He had thought she would not be able to do it. After all this time, he was ashamed to admit he had doubted her ability to carry out the task she had assigned herself. And, if he was totally honest with himself, his biggest fear had been that perhaps she had grown to love the monster who had bedded her all these years.

But, he had just learned in those crucial few moments, that Tiene Firefury’s heart had indeed remained true to  _him_ , the boy who stole a kiss in stealth.

* * *

 

*Shorel’aran – Farewell


	32. The Fall of Quel’Thalas

 

* * *

Morning and Tiene woke to the guild grounds being unnaturally quiet. She dragged herself out of bed and went through to wash. After dressing in simple travelling attire she packed a bag with her armour and extra blades.

She was leaving. Going home. She decided to have breakfast before beginning the journey to Quel’thalas, which she hoped and prayed was still unscathed by the scourge, Arthas' and Dar’khan’s deeds.

As she stepped outside her room, she looked across the hall at Sauren’s door. There was still an inexplicable pain remaining from his death. She thought maybe it was like having a limb cut off; you still sensed its presence for all it was gone. Shaking her head, she chastised herself. It was time to embrace her freedom. Freedom from an unhealthy addiction. That surely, had to be beneficial. With a heavy heart nonetheless, she turned, descended the stairs and headed to the dining hall.

The doors were closed, that was odd for this time of day. Still, after all that had happened, she guessed nothing would be normal for a long time to come. One thing she was glad about, was the horrible sounds of the dead and dying from the city had stopped. Brett had confirmed late last night that the scourge appeared to have moved on. No doubt north. Some of the other guilds’ members had moved out to help fight the encroaching armies, so numbers would be limited in Crimson Blade for a while, she thought.

She pushed open the door. Huge applause greeted her. She staggered back, utterly surprised by the various guild representatives in the hall cheering her. Brett came forward and guided her to the top table.

Everyone except Brett, gradually settled and took their seats at the tables. The old rogue remained standing beside Tiene. He roughly cleared his throat. All eyes were upon him.

“I am not good at speeches, so you will all be relieved to hear I do not plan on being up here for long.” A ripple of laughter spread through the hall. Brett took another deep breath and continued. “Today we wake to find Capital City in ruins. The loss of life of innocent people has been truly traumatic, and brings us great sorrow. It is a time for grieving and a time for healing. Some of the unfortunate souls who have been... transformed, shall we say, are still good people and I for one, will be aiding those individuals.” He smiled at Tiene. He had promised to ensure her three friends were well looked after. It was a huge relief. She would eventually seek them out, but for now she needed to go home.

“Prince Arthas and his scourge have moved towards the north. They are multiplying by the hour with their necromancers raising new armies for the mad prince.

“Not only do our own profession meet with this foe, but all have been rallying to our call. Paladins, warriors, hunters as well an impressive army of spell weavers such as mages and warlocks. We are blessed that also aiding in the fight are priests and shamans who will help heal, provide words of comfort and support to the brave men and women who fight to keep this plague, this abomination out of our homes and lands.”

Mutterings from the guilds in the hall echoed around the room and many nodding heads were noted. Brett took a drink of water before continuing.

“Sauren Nightflame is no more. He betrayed us all and that of his own kin, elf and human alike. A brave and very talented young woman was the one solely responsible for the unseating of this treacherous, brutal, unrelenting and, arrogant leader. In doing so, she has cleansed The Crimson Blade. It is again honourable and promises to be a guild which, with the right leadership, will be great once more.

“I therefore propose that the new leader be none other, than Tiene Firefury.”

The whole room was on its feet once more, glasses in hand, “aye-ing”, cheering, clapping and looking at her as she sat rather sheepishly next to where Brett stood. She looked up at Brett, stunned for the second time in the space of a few minutes.

Everyone was chanting for her to stand and make a speech. She  _never_  gave speeches and right now she felt even less like giving one, than ever she had. Brett took her elbow and helped her to her feet. The room began to quieten. She looked coyly out over the sea of faces. Some she recognised. One, with ebony hair, she so hoped to see, of course, was  _not_ there. Thil’las and Emmek were though, and they were giving her encouraging nods and applause.

She took a drink of water from the glasses already available on the table. “Thank you, Brett and...indeed  _all_  of you, for being so ... generous in your praise and the quite frankly,  _undeserved_ adulation.

“I graciously decline the mantle of leadership however. I am quite simply, unworthy.”

Shouts of protest were heard. Brett stared at her, disbelieving that she would turn down such an honour. She smiled and took another drink. “This guild was founded by a great man, Sa’themar Nightflame. A man I knew not, but whose skills, beliefs, honour and integrity were passed to many a rogue under his wing and guidance. My parents, as many of you know, were but two of those renowned assassins.”

Applause was afforded at her sentiment. “Therefore, it should be one who also has shown such dedication, honour, decency, a deep respect for his fellow rogues and an enviable ability to keep us together when it would be so much easier to fall apart. I propose...  _No!_  I  _insist_ , that the new leader, is Brett Hornsby.”

The applause was slow to start but then built to a deafening crescendo, all upstanding and shouting Brett’s name, readily accepting Tiene’s proposal.

Out of the blue, a shooting pain coursed through Tiene and she collapsed onto the table. Everyone gasped and moved forward, some looking around the hall suspecting a renegade new blood had thrown a dagger, but nothing. Then a cry from the centre of the room and three more people collapsed, holding their bellies and heads as if something was attacking them. More, just outside the dining hall also fell. Brett looked at Belaen who had pushed his way through to the main table. The elven leader looked slightly pastey himself.

“What is going on, Brett?”

“I –I don’t know. There are no marks on her, no blades, darts or anything to indicate....”

A loud pop was heard at the far side of the dining hall. Then another, and another. Mages appeared out from the portals that had materialised behind the rogue guilds. One of the mages, a reliable messenger for the rogue network came forward.

“It is near destroyed!” he breathed, his eyes containing horrors others could not see.

“What? What are you talking about.” Belean felt decidedly odd, but not as bad as those who had fallen.

The mage looked around and saw the people that had collapsed. “The elves! They feel it!”

“What? Tell us man, what are you on about!” Belaen growled and slightly concerned in case he was next to collapse.

Tiene looked up, she was reviving a little. “I have to get home,” she said. “Please, portal me home.”

The mage took a deep breath and took her hand. “The Sunwell,” he said. “The Magister Dar’khan...something went wrong when he tried to absorb its power. It exploded!”

Another mage came up. An elf. He looked drawn, tired, listless. He stared at the rogues. “It is the very essence of our being, it sustains us. Dar’Khan has betrayed us, and all elves, everywhere will feel the impact. Quel’thalas has fallen.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

It was early afternoon, and the land of Quel’thalas was strangely serene for all the destruction visited upon it. While Sauren Nightflame had led the attack on Capital City, the assault on Quel’thalas had already been underway. Every hamlet and town including Silvermoon City itself, was decimated by the scourge and its leader, Prince Arthas Menethil. The corresponding blast from the Sunwell had all but near wiped the area off the map.

Everywhere, rubble and dust covered the bodies of countless victims. Innocent people, who had loved life, thrived in this once beautiful city, rich in its vibrant reds, golds and blues. They had all believed they were safe in Silvermoon. A sanctuary created in part by the very one who had helped destroy it. Dar’Khan Drathir.

As she picked her way through the city that was once her home, she bore witness to the wounded survivors as they called out for their loved ones amid the destruction. Children cried, their little faces covered in dust and powdered plaster, clinging to their favourite toy, stumbling and wailing for their mothers and fathers. Parents searched desperately amid the rubble that was once their homes for their youngsters, trying to console each other as panic rose when their search seemed in vain. The blessed ones who found each other, shed tears of joy when they were reunited.

Others tried to comfort friends and strangers alike who had found the broken remains of their families, and seemed to have lost all hope. Some wandered aimlessly, as if in some kind of trance, like ghosts drifting in the Twisting Nether. All signs of life erased from their eyes. Empty shells of their former selves. Those that were able, provided aid to the less fortunate, but their efforts often arrived too late and they had to accept yet another life was lost.

Even pets, beasts of burden, and mounts lay strewn amidst the devastation. Wagons with trader’s wares were upturned or lying splintered and crushed, their goods beyond being salvaged.

The realisation that the dead were the fortunate ones in this catastrophe, hit Tiene hard. And that thought frightened her more than anything ever had in her entire life.

Her breathing became ragged, her pace started to quicken as she passed through the gate into The Royal Exchange. The level of destruction did not lessen the deeper she moved through the city. It was as if it had been a giant foot that had descended from on high, and razed the entire metropolis. It had, in fact, been the Sunwell. The very source of the elven civilisation, their sustenance, their lifesblood, which been the cause of such destruction, albeit through the traitorous meddling of a power hungry Magister. Borne of a stolen vial from the Well of Eternity during the War of The Ancients, the Sunwell with its now depleted energies, was left in ruins, its power waning by the day, corrupted. The elven nation of Quel’thalas, was lost.

Her heart was hammering in her ears, tears threatening to spill as the fear of what she would find was becoming too much of a heinous probability. She stumbled as she fought her way over the broken stone effigy of Prince Kael’thas through the last gate, to the final stretch before she reached home.

“Tiene!” a familiar voice called to her. She turned, wiping the threatening tears from her vision with the palm of her hand. Lor’themar stood a few feet from her. His armour was heavily damaged, and his face bloodied down the left side. He looked exhausted as he approached her. She gasped as she saw that his left eye was scarred, blinded. They held each other tightly. Her eyes scanned behind him as other Rangers looked through the rubble for survivors. She could not see Duthan.

She pulled back from Lor’themar, her question clearly written on her face. He struggled to keep the pain of loss at bay as he slowly shook his head in response. Her knees folded and she landed with a thud on the crumbled walkway. Kneeling in front of her, Lor’themar combed her hair from her face. “I’m so sorry, Tiene,” he choked back a sob. “He was brave to the end. And, I guess...fortunate.”

She stared in disbelief at her adopted brother. “What does that even  _mean_?” she stammered between hitched breaths as the tears started to cascade.

Lor’themar looked away to try and stem his own tears. Once he composed himself he looked back at her. “Arthas slew Duthan when he was trying to protect Sylvanas. The prince collects the souls of his victims through the blade he carries, but worse, he uses necromancers to re-animate some of the corpses. Duthan was lucky that Arthas’ attention was focused on Sylvanas. Otherwise, he would be one of the scourge now.”

She felt as if her body was being consumed by flames. She knew only too well about the necromancers, she had witnessed it first hand. The loss of her eldest brother was excruciating enough, but the thought that he could have so easily been cursed to exist as an unfeeling shell, rotting day after day, twisted her insides. Her slender form crumpled, and she rocked back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. Lor’themar put his arm around her, sharing her grief.

“I managed to remove his body from where he fell. He is in the Spire if you wish to see him.”

She nodded and after a few moments said, “I must find Inaris and my father first.”

“Tiene. No.” Lor’themar kissed her brow. ” _Don’t_ ,” he whispered.

She could tell from his expression and tone that he already knew their fate. The pain was unbearable. With a strength she did not know she possessed, she pushed herself up and made towards her home.

“Tiene! Please. Don’t!” Lor’themar’s voice called after her.

It merely propelled her forward and she ran, then stumbled, picked herself up again and ran more, until she arrived at the path that had led to her home. The building was almost halved, one side in utter ruins the other precariously holding together. Now her feet felt like they were weighted down, but she pressed on. Her eyes scanned the rubble, praying against hope that movement would indicate life.

She moved huge slabs of stone, the likes of which normally she would not have been able to budge at all. She flung pieces of broken furniture out the way creating a path through the devastation. Such was her desperation to find her father and Inaris.

Then she found them. They looked like they were merely sleeping. Raising her face to the sun she screamed as long and loud as her voice would permit before her chest burned from the pain she felt. She dropped to her knees and looked down at her father. His serene face indicated he had not suffered at least. Inaris, as handsome as ever, looked equally at peace. This small mercy was the only thing she could be grateful for.

Her pain suddenly turned to numbness, though she had no doubt her emotions would go through the tumult of an endless whirlwind for days, weeks, months to come. And it would all be edged by a rage she had never known existed, until now.

Lor’themar arrived with a small band of Rangers. He approached her, and kneeling behind, wrapped his arms round her shoulders in a bid to comfort her. Her hands clasped his forearms, holding him tightly. He felt the pain as fiercely as she did. They had been his family too. “We will take them to the Spire,” he said quietly battling to keep the sobs from his voice.

“Why would he do this? Why would Dar’Khan betray our people? Our family!” she asked Lor’themar.

The Ranger took a deep breath. “I suspect it was his ever increasing greed for power, Tiene, the promise of which he found through serving Arthas. He could not appreciate the things that were important, like we do.”

He loosened his hold of her and she bent down between the bodies of her father and brother. Taking one of her daggers, she took a lock of hair from both and stored them carefully in her pouch. Then she leaned back down and kissed both men softly, on their cheeks. “I will avenge you,” she whimpered. Then with a lop-sided smile, “You were right father, he was not to be trusted. But, I swear, I will have his head for this.”

She rose slowly and turned to Lor’themar. He had overheard her. “You do realise that Dar’Khan also perished in the blast?”

She looked at him, her eyes already starting to lose the azure colour of the high elves. And behind, a determination that would remain unwavering until vengeance was met. “Do you  _honestly_  believe that?”

His brow furrowed. “He could not have survived in such close proximity. Look around you Tiene. You can see what it did to Silvermoon and we are on the opposite isle from the Sunwell.”

“Do not underestimate him, Lor’themar. He created this place, now he has destroyed it and with the backing and aid of Arthas. Both willing puppets of the Burning Legion! I doubt very much he is lying out there all crisp and ashen. He will have survived in some form or another. And I will find him.”

The Ranger Captain inclined his head. The young woman had a point, Dar’Khan had proved to be a slippery customer, deceitful beyond words, betraying Lor’themar’s trust and ultimately the entire population. There were other problems too, however. “Tiene, the Ranger General has also become one of Arthas’ servants.”

“Sylvanas? No! She would fight to the death for Quel’thalas.”

“And she did. That is when she was turned. He has captured her soul, but re-animated her as a banshee. Now she does his bidding.”

The young rogue was perplexed by this news. Lor’themar had still more to tell her though. “Arthas has also made use of what remains of the Sunwell to resurrect the fallen mage Kel’Thuzad just as you suspected. We were unable to stop it.”

She nodded then stepped closer to him, her voice shuddering. “I killed Sauren.” It was almost like a holy confession.

Lor’themar, along with Inaris and Duthan had been aware that Sauren and she had been lovers. She had confessed all in a letter to Inaris that had arrived but two days before this terrible tragedy. She had written everything down from the night of the first Gathering, to her plot for revenge, to discovering the connections with Dar’Khan, Kel’thuzad and Arthas. It had been a hurried letter, not in her best hand writing but one she wanted them to have, so that should she fail in her attempt to assassinate the guild leader, they would know what had happened. She begged them not to tell her father, unless she failed.

Lor’themar put his arms round her again. There was no need to acknowledge it with words.

She spoke quietly, “Now Kel’Thuzad is resurrected, they will bring the Legion into Azeroth, I’m sure of it. And if they do, Quel’thalas will only be a taste of what will happen to the rest of the world.”

Lor’themar nodded grimly.

She looked down at her father and brother. “Lor’themar, if you please, take my... _our_  family, to the Spire and we will arrange their burials. I do not want the necromancers anywhere near them.”

She turned back to face him and gently stroked his face. “And get that eye seen to ... brother,” she said. Her sentiment, made his one good eye water.

The Rangers carefully lifted the bodies of her father and brother, placed them on stretchers they had acquired from the infirmary and made their solemn journey to the Spire. Their way was littered with more rubble, dust clouds and fires. The once beautiful fountain at the foot of Sunfury Spire had its waters sullied by the broken statue and crumbled wall that had bordered it.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Nearing the steps to the Spire, movement to her right made Tiene pull back a little from the group of Rangers. From the smoke and dust swirling at the edge of the courtyard, a lone figure materialised. A billowing cloak, caressed by the breeze. A glint of steel. Someone with a long, steady stride.

Tiene drew to a halt. The ghost from her past, haunting her still. Seeing him in the distance, once more too far for her to reach, and too much for her to hope for. She smiled wistfully. Today, of all days...

Like a stormy sea, the familiar pain of her past mistakes crashed over her. Once naive and foolish. Oh,  _so_  foolish, driven by blind revenge and an unexpected addiction. He’d been duped into believing her guild master had laid claim to her, and the look of hurt in his eyes that fateful night, had profoundly haunted her for years to come. Her heart had also left with him, though she never had the chance to tell him.

By the time she had finally realised the extent of the guild leader’s twisted dealings, years had gone by. Years in which she had been at Sauren’s beckon call, as, when and however he’d wanted her. She had been precious to him, he spoiled her. He was also fiercely protective too, and had literally killed for her. He was an insatiable lover and she’d learned the art of love from a madame to keep her deception convincing. But she never loved him.

Now Sauren was dead, and she had known Camnath would remain just a beautiful, distant memory.

Every day, for years, her mind had drifted, always to a memory of a distant and familiar horizon where she saw a young elf as he tried to emulate the movements of lynx in the meadows. A boy whose handsome face was covered in grass stains and who stole a kiss from an awkward, plain, skinny young girl. Even in his absence, somehow, the memory of Camnath Sunspear kept her focused, fighting, dreaming, hoping.

But, too much time had passed them by. He had moved past his hurt, or perhaps never even thought of her at all. She would never know.

Yet now, the figure kept moving towards her.

Refusing to blink for fear the vision would vaporise, she remained wide eyed. The sudden swish of an ebony ponytail in the breeze made her heart skip a beat. The long lost sensation of wings in her belly stirred. Her hand came up as her breath caught in her throat.  _Could it possibly be_?

The distance between them had now narrowed. The man’s features becoming clearer with each step closer. Her heart hammered.

Anar’alah belore!* He was  _real_! She was suddenly struggling to breathe, chest heaving, almost too painful to bear.

Camnath, in his burnished leather armour, moved purposefully, powerfully. Older yes, but oh,  _so_  handsome still, sporting a shadow of stubble. An array of blades sat strapped to his back, the hilts of which she could see over his shoulder.

She noted the Ranger Captain also looking in the direction of the nearing figure. She felt giddy. It was irrefutable proof, for once, she was  _not_  dreaming. She signalled Lor’themar to continue. “I will be with you shortly,” her voice but a whisper. He smiled softly, nodded and rejoined the procession.

Camnath Sunspear, drew to a halt in front of her. He was taller than she remembered, or perhaps it was just that she felt so small and helpless right now.

“Hello Tiene,” he said. His voice was deep, warm and respectful.

“Camnath,” she breathed, her bottom lip quivering. “You are ... looking well. Considering...” she gestured their surroundings with her eyes.

He smiled. “Thank you.”

It was difficult to think of simple conservation amid the heartache that was once their home. No easier when the one standing before you was the only one you had ever truly loved, yet you had let them slip from your life through stupidity and a misguided need to prove yourself. “And ... your family?” her voice hitched. She was still struggling to breathe.

“They are well too. Thank you, Tiene.”

She nodded, pleased to hear his father, mother and sister were alive. Like a candle in a breeze, the smile on her lips flickered. Breathing was now painful.

“I saw your house. I didn’t enter, but I feared the worst,” He said sympathetically. “I’ve been looking for you...”

She lowered her head, fighting back the tears, the sharpness in her chest threatening to send her into spasms.  _After all these years_. Her body started to tremble uncontrollably. Once the finest of ruptures had appeared, her barriers crumbled easily. She did not know where to look or what to do.

“Oh Tiene,” he said, and pulled her into his arms. She lost all ability then to stem the outpouring of sorrow. Her pain came out in huge wracking gulps. Clinging to him, she felt her legs give way and he sat with her on the bottom steps to the Spire, holding her gently, stroking her hair.

“I’m lost,” she whimpered. “I have nothing left. My family, my home ... all are gone....”

“You have Lor’themar,” he said. “You have your guild.” He tilted her head up to look at him. “And, you have me,” he whispered softly, a gentle smile on his beautiful mouth.

She faltered. Even after she had hurt him years ago, still he was being nice to her? “I do not deserve such kindness.” She pushed up. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she sniffed loudly, and tried to steady her breathing as she glanced at the handsome elf rogue. How could he feel this way? After all this time? After what she had done? It was the first opportunity she had had in years to say what she needed to say. “Camnath. I – I hurt you and I am so,  _so_  very sorry. I did not mean to, I...”

He smiled. ” _You_  never hurt me, Tiene. We were young. Innocent, naïve even, and ... hard headed.” He wiped a stray tear from her chin. “We have  _both_  made mistakes, wrong choices and have regrets. That is our past. Now we must look forward.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “But, I was always there. In the shadows. Watching you, for many years.”

Her body shook from his words. The eyes she had felt, the ghosts she had seen, she had never dared believe it was really him. Her mouth tried to form words, but they simply refused to come.

He somehow knew what she was trying to ask and replied to her unspoken question. “Work always seemed to keep us apart. Each time I plucked up courage to come to you and discuss things, you were gone on a mission, or I had to leave for one. And then, there was ... well... _him_.”

She bowed her head, still sniffing and wiping tears away. He reached to a pouch that was strapped to his belt and produced a handkerchief. She accepted it gratefully. Head still bowed, her voice was a mere whisper. “I thought you had forgotten me, or moved on.”

He made a soft  _hmph_  sound and again he touched her cheek. ” _Forgotten_  you?” He lifted her chin, “Tiene, all I have  _ever_  done ... is love you. I can’t help myself. It was always you.”

She did not think she could take any more pain today, and although what he had just confessed was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, it was tinged with the copious sadness that held her, unwavering, in its grip.

He cupped her face. “We will talk later. For now, just let me be here for you. Please.”

She nodded and with the faintest of smiles trembling on her lips, he embraced her before helping her to her feet. Together, they climbed the stairs to Sunfury Spire.

Inside, the Rangers had placed Tiene’s family together. When she walked up and saw all three lying next to each other the crippling pain of intense loss washed over her again and the sobs came freely. For all the world, they really did look like they were sleeping, and that is how she preferred to think of them.

She crossed over to Duthan. Kneeling beside his cold body, she stroked his cheek, then repeated the ritual she had performed with Inaris and her father. His lock of hair was placed beside the others in her pouch. Such handsome men, she thought. No doubt there would be some other hearts broken at their loss, if indeed those said hearts had survived Dar’Khan’s betrayal.

Lor’themar knelt beside her. “What are your wishes for them?”

She took a deep breath. “The ancient rites, Lor’themar. Our people came to this land by way of the sea. That is how they will leave it. Will your Rangers help?”

“Of course.”

“One boat for them all. I want them waiting together for me when my time comes.”

“As you wish. I saw one at the coast on my way here, it will serve well. Now go, get some rest and something to eat. There are provisions in the Lodge. I will join you soon.”

She clasped his hand. “I’m sorry to put this on you. I know you have also to see to the Prince’s return following the death of his father.”

He shook his head. “Do not be sorry. You all accepted me as part of your family, and that has meant so much to me. And I love you ... my sister.” he smiled affectionately, and she raised his hand to her cheek. “It is the least I can do, Tiene. Now go. Rest.”

Camnath came forward as the two of them rose. Lor’themar nodded to the young elf. “Make sure she eats and rests,” he said.

“I will see she is looked after,” Camnath replied placing a comforting arm around Tiene.

Lor’themar waited until the two of them left the Spire before he instructed three of his Rangers to go prepare the boat while he and another two dressed the bodies ready for their voyage.

 

* * *

* * *

 

She had fallen asleep with her head on Camnath’s lap as he had gently stroked her hair, lulling her into a slumber. He had stayed with her all day, ensuring she had had something to eat and drink, before insisting she rest on one of the makeshift cots in the Lodge. He had snoozed now and again, but often stirred to check she was alright.

Early evening, and Tiene was woken by someone gently shaking her. Her eyes struggled to open, the residue of her earlier tears having adhered her lids. She wiped at her eyes, and they eased apart, finally focusing on Lor’themar. He had taken her advice about getting his eye tended to at least. His face cleaned, he now wore an eye-patch, and his hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail. He looked older somehow. Then again, they all did after this terrible tragedy.

“It’s time,” he said.

She nodded and pushed herself up. She rose to her feet slowly and Camnath was ready to support her if she felt weak or unsteady. A deep breath, and she was upright, ready to make the journey to the beach.

The city’s boundary wall had been breached in many places and enabled the funeral group quicker access to the beach than would have normally been available. They walked in silence along the edge of the hills that led them west of Silvermoon and south of Sunstrider Isle also known as the Isle of Quel’Danas, home of the now corrupted Sunwell and the late Sunstrider dynasty.

There on the beach, Lor’themar’s Rangers had prepared the boat and a large bonfire, lit and ready. The Rangers halted at the edge of the sea, allowing Tiene to pay her last respects. The bodies had been wrapped in plain white linen cloth and banners bearing the colours and phoenix emblem of Silvermoon were draped over them.

She touched each of their heads and whispered, “Safe journey, dear father, and beloved brothers, Duthan and Inaris. Belore will shine brighter with your spirits at her side. Until we meet again ... Elor bindel felallan morin’aminor*.”

The Rangers placed the bodies in the boat and pushed it out to sea. The boat sailed towards the horizon and once it was clear of the reef, the Rangers lit their arrows. They all stood in line, arrows nocked, waiting for Lor’themar to give the signal. He shouted the order and the arrows whittled through the air and landed on the deck of the boat. Within minutes, the entire vessel was aflame.

Tiene stood, eyes on the boat, holding hands with Lor’themar and Camnath. They watched silently as the boat continued towards the horizon, then slipped silently into the sea’s watery depths. Moments later, the sun succumbed to the tranquil shadows of the moon’s domain. The golden glow of the bonfire flickered and rippled in the night’s embrace, aiding the spirits on their journey.

In that moment, Tiene Firefury knew who she was. She had been reborn amid the rubble of her one-time home, Silvermoon City and on that beach overlooking The Great Sea. Inwardly, she said goodbye to the girl she had once been, to the home she had grown up in, to the family she had loved and adored and who had loved her equally in return, to the heady days of innocent wonder watching the lynx as they prowled and hunted in the woods.

Now she was grown. Transformed.

Driven by vengeance. Fueled by hatred. Scarred by intolerable personal loss.

The only thing that would keep her anchored, was now knowing that Camnath, as well as Lor’themar would be there for her.

Now, she knew, she was destined to be one of the deadliest assassins to have ever been part of the Crimson Blade.

* * *

 

 

* Elor bindel felallan morin’aminor – Sleep forever in quiet serenity

* Belore – The Sun

*Anar’alah belore! – By the light of the sun.


	33. Kael’thas, Prince of Quel’thalas

* * *

King Anasterian had been slain by none other than the death knight, Arthas. No-one acknowledged the beast by his regality anymore, he did not deserve such noble reverence after all he had wrought on his own kingdom, let alone that of the elven nation and its lands.

The day after Camnath and Tiene had left with the Rangers to pursue Dar’khan Drathir, Kael’thas Sunstrider, Prince of Quel’thalas and only son of High King Anasterian returned to Silvermoon amid the aftermath of its destruction.

Although he had spent many years away from Quel’thalas, his deep love for the majestic land had never waned. His beloved Silvermoon, the one-time jewel of the elven nation, now lay ruined, strewn in a thick sheet of dust, rubble and blood. He’d winced at some of the bodies still remaining at the edges of roads, in the woods and derelict buildings on the way to the city. Mothers, fathers, children, their mutilated bodies a distressing sight and one which would not be easily erased from one’s mind for a very,  _very_ long time. The Rangers had worked diligently, rallying what help they could in the elves’ vastly reduced numbers, trying to lay the dead to rest, but it was a mammoth task.

As he rode in on his hawkstrider with his entourage of bodyguards, his welcome in the city had been somewhat reserved, to say the least. Elven eyes, with their depleting azure lustre, watched with a tangible distaste as he rode by. His people having suffered greatly, had viewed his absence from the kingdom over the years, as almost negligent. So much more so now, following the monumental losses to the elven nation.

It had been many years since last he rode along the Walk of Elders. A growing feeling of dread filled his heart as he turned into Royal Exchange emerging at Farstrider Square, preferring this route as opposed to the more direct one through Murder Row. It was a stark contrast to Dalaran, the violet city, with is pristine towers, domed buildings and paved streets. There he had studied and trained to become a powerful mage. His dedication and clarity of thought and tremendous skills also earned him recognition with the elite of Dalaran and he had become a member of The Six.

He had left the comforts of Dalaran however, on a bitter note. It was there he had expressed an interest in a human sorceress named Jaina Proudmore, and he made no secret of his feelings for her. He was a polite, charming , noticeably gifted mage. She had seemed taken with the young Prince.

Until, that was, a chance meeting with another Prince turned her eyes elsewhere. That Prince was none other than, Arthas Menethil. Kael’thas did not handle Jaina’s rejection of his love interest in her, well. And, when he accidently came across the couple sharing a moment of tenderness, he questioned Arthas’ depth of feelings for the young sorceress. Why was it the human prince wanted their relationship kept quiet? Did she embarrass him somehow? Was she not worthy enough in his eyes to openly declare his feelings for her?

Now of course, Jaina’s lover had been responsible for the vile decimation of Kael’thas’ home and the eradication of close to ninety percent of his people. He had lashed out at her with scathing remarks about her vile lover, the monster that she had chosen over him. He was done with her. He would lick his wounds and focus only on his people’s plight.

He picked his way through the ruins, his hawkstrider clucking and clacking as its huge taloned toes negotiated the rubble with considerable grace. Hands crossed on the saddle’s pommel, he loosely held the reins of the great bird, it’s rocking motion almost providing some level of comfort in this vista of carnage.

He headed towards the Court of The Sun where he was to be greeted by a man he had never met before. A Ranger, who by what Kael’thas had heard, had been rallying the people of Silvermoon and the surrounding areas, trying to bring some order from the chaos. It was admirable, considering he had lost nearly his entire family in the brutal invasion, a sister being the only survivor.

Kael’thas had sent the Magister, Archmage Rommath ahead to announce his arrival, hoping that it may boost the morale of his people. So far, that had not went quite according to plan. Still, it was impractical to expect the people of Quel’thalas to feel anything other than despondent having suffered what they had. This was not about a popularity contest after all, it was about leading his people, the responsibility having now fallen to him following the death of his father, and giving them hope with a future to aim for. That was going to be no easy task, having seen the near apocalyptic result of a scourge invasion en route to his destination.

The broken steps of the Sunfury Spire loomed as he turned into the courtyard from Farstrider Square. He caught sight of Rommath descending them as he neared. His loyal companion came forward and grabbed the reins of Kael’thas mount, steadying the beast as the Prince sat, quietly surveying the Spire. “Welcome home, Your Highness, although...” Rommath’s eyes gestured the ruined city.

Kael’thas merely smiled wanly in return. Once his bodyguards dismounted and stood at his side, the Prince of Quel’thalas also climbed down. He remained still for a few moments, absorbing the fact his feet were back on home ground. The extent of the devastation hit him suddenly, as a memory of the city’s beauty and splendour flashed across his mind. She lay in ruins now, bleeding, clinging to the desperate hope that her grandeur would be restored. It would be a long and arduous undertaking.

He saw a Ranger who he assumed was the one he was meeting, descending the stairs, and quickly asked Rommath to remind him of his name.

“Lor’themar Theron, Your Highness. He was promoted to Alar’annalas* by Sylvanas herself. I believe there was quite a ceremony held to celebrate. Your father congratulated him personally for his accomplishment.”

Kael’thas nodded as he watched the Ranger Lord approach. Still wearing Ranger attire, his hair pulled up tight in a ponytail and an eye patch over his left eye, Lor’themar looked tired, strained. It was more than understandable. Under the circumstances, it was unreasonable to expect the Ranger to have followed protocol by greeting the Prince in the customary stately fashion. This man had obviously worked non-stop at trying to keep things running as smoothly as possible, and bolstering those around him. Kael’thas could not help but feel a little humbled by the Ranger. Only a little though.

Lor’themar came to a halt in front of the Prince. He bowed deeply. “Your Highness,” he said in a weary, but polite manner. “It is with regret that I meet you under such tragic circumstances.”

“Lor’themar,” The Prince acknowledged the sentiment. “Thank you for your valiant efforts in tending to our people. I believe my father’s body has been laid in state. I am most grateful to you for that as well.”

The Ranger Lord inclined his head. “Do you wish to freshen up after your journey, Your Highness, or would you rather see your father first?”

“I will see to my father,” Prince Kael’thas said, his voice heavy with suppressed grief. He nonetheless straightened his shoulders and assumed the poise indicative of the noble born.

Lor’themar turned and led the way into the Spire, Rommath and Kael’thas following.

That night, the skies of Quel’thalas were lit once more by the flames of a funeral pyre as the Prince said farewell to his father.  He had spoken privately with the High King prior to the funeral, proclaiming he was lost without him, and he hoped he would be able to lead the people as valiantly as his father had. He also announced to those in attendance, that High King Anasterian would be the last king in the Sunstrider dynasty. Kael’thas would not take the crown.

It was then he renamed his people Sin’dorei, Children of the blood, in honour of the all those who died at the hand of Arthas, the scourge and the traitorous Dar’Khan Drathir.

Kael’thas took it upon himself to rid Quel’thalas of the scourge that still roamed the woods and lands. He ordered all his people evacuated from each area and then the forests were set aflame in a bid to purify the broken lands. Finally, before he left Silvermoon to fight alongside the remaining alliance who still fought the scourge in Lordaeron, he crossed the water to Quel’Danas and to the Sunwell.

It’s purity now ebbing every day, and the corruption from the resurrection of the mage Kel’thuzad and damage caused by the mad Magister, seemed to ooze like a living, breathing entity. It needed cleansed also, so he gathered volunteers to destroy what remained, and seal it.

The act was an emotional one, for this had been the life essence of the elven nation, their source of power for thousands of years. It was a high price to exact of his people, but a necessary one. The side-effect of this act of salvation was the growing lethargy of the elven race. Removed from their sustaining source, they became listless and despondent.

A solution was required.

For now, however, he resigned himself to join the new Alliance in beating back the scourge from Lordaeron. Not only that, but he swore vengeance on the one who had led them through his homeland. Arthas, was in his sights.

The Ranger Lord’s destiny was also altered from the Prince’s visit home. Kael’thas entrusted Lor’themar to protect their exhausted people, and to keep their land untainted from the scourge. It meant that his days as a Ranger, were drawing to an end.

* * *

 

* Alar’annalas – Ranger Lord


	34. Dance Of The Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mature content, namely of a sexual nature. Read at your own discretion.

* * *

For two weeks now they had worked with the Rangers trying to locate Dar’khan since he had somehow survived yet another failed attempt at harnessing the remaining power of the Sunwell.

Remnants of the Sunwell’s power had been detected by the Blue Dragonflight and they sent one of their own, a young Blue by the name of Kalecgos, to help find its source and protect it. This time however, it had been in the form of a young girl named Anveena Teague who turned out to be an avatar in human form for the Sunwell.

Dar’khan had managed to kidnap the girl, and tried to extract the power. Again, it literally back fired on him as she used it to try and destroy him.

Once more the Rangers thought the Magister-come-necromancer had perished, but still Tiene was not convinced. And so, she and Camnath kept up a search for the elusive and extremely slippery, traitorous, Dar’Khan.

Tiene had kept Lor’themar informed on progress, as he now focused on the protection of Anveena, keeping her in a secret location so the power would not be abused again.

Latest sightings of Dar’khan had been reported all over Ghostlands, but he always managed to give them the slip. However, a source that had hailed from the discovery of a book written in the Magister’s own hand, informed them he was holed up in the south of the region in a structure called the Tower of the Damned within Deatholme, a scourge citadel.

Camnath told Tiene of a hideout he had near to Deatholme in the hills, so it was the plan to rest the night there and deal with Dar’Khan once and for all the next day.

She followed closely as he scrambled towards a cave entrance. Camnath had used this cave many times in the past as a base for missions he had accepted in the area. He had concealed its entrance with a collection of vines and grasses available in close proximity. Having scouted the area prior to their arrival to ensure it was still safe he left some provisions for their overnight stay.

The cave did not go too deep into the mountainside, but far enough to offer adequate shelter. They had reached the hub of the cave, and it opened into a rough rectangular area. A circle of stone near its centre housed sticks and dried mosses to make a fire. Camnath lit it quickly by scoring a flint on one of his blades. He leaned down and gently fanned the sparks until they took hold of the kindling. Before too long there was enough light for Tiene to look around.

The realisation that this would be the first night alone together settled over Tiene. Butterflies, long since having died in her belly, suddenly fluttered into life again. But she was a changed woman. Those little wings no longer represented nerves, just sweet anticipation. She noted the furs spread on the earthen floor to provide comfort and somewhere to sleep. Blankets were folded up on a small ledge just above, with rolled up hides to use as pillows or cushions. Small pots, plates and cups were all stored together off to the right of the main entrance.

Camnath unrolled one of the blankets and placed it round her shoulders. She smiled her thanks, fingers brushing his as she pulled the blanket tighter. A look passed between them, then he turned and grabbed the two rabbits he had left earlier from near the entrance. Glancing over his shoulder he told her he would be right back, and he disappeared out the cave again.

She settled down in front of the fire, embracing the heat as it warmed her numb fingers. Seasons were changing, and it was taking time for her to adjust to the new order of things. Having grown up in perpetual spring, the drop in temperatures was challenging to her body.

She stared into the flames. Memories flashed across her mind of Inaris, Duthan and her father. She recalled their smiles and laughter and the relentless teasing her brothers put her through. Their loss would always be hard to bear, but she was learning to focus on the happier times they had shared, and so it eased the pain, if only a little. Soon their deaths would be avenged though.

Camnath came back, with the newly skinned rabbits, skewered ready for the fire. He set them on the uprights and shortly after, the hiss of meat juices were heard as the meat started to cook through. “Lie down and rest while it cooks,” he said softly. “I will wake you when it’s ready.”

He offered her one of the rollups for her head and she lay down. Sleep did not take her though, and she watched him quietly, as he pulled together plates and cups for their meal and turned the meat over every now and again, checking if it was tender. He pulled a bit off and tested it. He looked at her. Raising an eyebrow when he found her still awake, he smirked. “Not too long now.”

She smiled back. How oddly tranquil this little setting was. The eve of what could only be described of as the bloodiest vengeance, was being spent in a hollowed out cavern of stone, with the man she had loved and thought lost to her, for years.

“What are you thinking ... about tomorrow?” he asked her unexpectedly.

She stared back into the flames and took a deep breath before answering. “I am thinking I will enjoy taking his head.”

Camnath pulled one of the rabbits off the skewer, plated it up for her and passed it over. She thanked him, sat up and started to eat. “It’s good,” she said, indicating the tender meat.

He nodded and started to eat some also. “You had feelings for him once, did you not?”

Tiene eyed him carefully while she still chewed on the meal. “I was young and fanciful then, Camnath. But, he had flair, style and yes...he was  _very_  good-looking then.”

Camnath’s jaw tightened and he scowled into the flames. When he met her eyes again, she was smirking, her eyes twinkling. She tossed a bone in his direction and laughed. “That’s what you get for asking,” she said.

He smirked, “I thought you were serious there.”

She ripped another bit of meat from the rabbit, using her teeth. With a quick glance at the man opposite her, she felt the need to torment him a little more. “I am! He actually  _was_  quite beautiful. He was almost my first.”

Camnath looked out from under his dark lashes. “Are you teasing me, Tiene?” his voice was low.

“Maybe,” she grinned, tossing another bone in his direction. He swatted it away. His eyes were dark, dangerous. She continued chewing, watching him closely, the smirk playing at the corner of her mouth still. Certain games of Sauren’s had rubbed off on her, but hers was not intended to cause pain.

He put down his plate. Unclasping his belt and scabbards, he laid his weapons to the side. “You are being unkind, Tiene,” he said quietly as he stared into the flames. He glanced sideways for a moment, and her expression changed from mischievousness to one of uncertainty. He continued. “I have saved myself for you, all these years. And still, you tease me so.”

She stopped eating. She had not expected this. Guilt washed over her now. Putting her plate to one side, she pulled her knees under herself and crawled over to him. Tentatively, she put her hand on his shoulder. “For me?” she was genuinely moved by his confession.

He sat for a moment, his back to her, head down. “Camnath, I had no ide....”

Before she knew what was happening he’d spun round and caught her in his arms making her fall back onto the furs. He lay on top of her, smirking. “No, silly! Of course not,” he laughed. “I could not remain a virgin forever you know.”

She recovered from the shock and started swatting his arms. “Oh, I  _see_! Who’s the tease now?” she laughed lightly.

“In fact, I’ve lost count how many lovers I’ve had,” he said, pretending to count on his fingers.

She playfully slapped him across his arms again. “You are wicked, Camnath Sunspear.”

His face became serious. He swept a stray lock of hair from her face and softly stroked her cheek. He marvelled at her soft skin and the bright, mischievous eyes. He took a deep breath. “Others have had my body, Tiene, but my heart has always been yours.”

Her fingers traced his mouth. Such a wonderful mouth, full of unmentionable promises.

“You had mine from the moment you fell on your face in the grass,” she smiled.

He roared with laughter. “Oh, no! I remember that day!” He rolled off her and covered his face with his arm, still laughing. “I was  _dreadful_  at that.”

“Yes. You were,” she agreed, swapping position with him. She raised her upper body on straight arms and stared down at him. “That was our first kiss too.”

His arm slid away from his face. “You didn’t want me to kiss you though, did you?”

“Oh, but I  _did_  want you to. I just panicked. I didn’t know what to do after.”

They held each other’s gaze. “And now?” he asked, his voice soft and deep. “Do you know now?”

The image of his walking away from her years before flashed across her memory. It was a pain that had never left her, even now, as she looked down at his handsome face. She wanted that pain to leave her. “If you kiss me, you’ll find out,” she whispered.

He cupped her face and pulled her down. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue prying her lips apart. She responded, allowing him to probe and returning the gesture. Her hand moved down his chest, undoing the fastenings on his leather jerkin and moving down again to loosen the ties on his britches. Her fingers slid slowly under the leather and she found what she wanted. He was already hard for her. A soft moan escaped his lips. He gently pushed her head back. “Well,” he smiled. “I guess you do.”

Her belly butterflies burst into life again. “Love me, Camnath,” she whispered. ” _Please_.”

She would never need to ask twice. Sitting up he started to undo her clothing while she slid his jerkin from his shoulders. He sidled out from under and kneeled behind her. Tugging at her britches, he eased them down to reveal her smooth bare flesh. He threw them to the side. Her vest, discarded nearby.

The remaining ties on is britches undone, he cast them off and drew her body against his, leaving her in no doubt pleasure awaited.

He cupped her right breast. “I have dreamed of this moment, for a very, long time,” he whispered, nuzzling her earlobe and down to her neck. She could feel his warm breath carressing her skin.

“As have I,” she replied. Turning her head sideways his mouth met hers again, tongue tips dancing.

_ Butterflies... _

With feathery touches which fired every nerve-ending in her body, he softly kissed her neck, shoulders and traced his lips down over the soft flesh of her back. She trembled when his hands travelled up to caress her shoulders, gently pressing her torso down until her hands sank into the deep, rich furs. His fingers moved lightly back along her sides, and came to rest on her hips. Smoothly, tenderly, he took her. Loved her. Quiet moans of pleasure reverberated deep in his throat as he watched the dancing flames reflecting on her back.

The ghost of her previous lover melted into nothing, as finally, her true love made her his. Years of aching, longing for even the briefest of his touches, had just been transcended. A flush washed up over her from deep within, unfolding, unravelling, celebrating, as it streamed to every extremity. Her hair cascading over her shoulders as their pace quickened. She softly called his name.

_ Silken wings beating... _

Strong hands glided up under her belly to her breasts and gently, easing from her and he turned her to face him. One hand cupping the back of her neck, he kissed her deeply and lowered her down onto the warm, sumptuous furs. She lay with her eyes closed, the ghost of a smile on her lips, her cheeks bathed in a lovers blush. Caressing her hair, he drank in the soft contours of her face in the warm glow from the fire. “I love you, Tiene,” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him tenderly. “And I love you, Camnath. I always have, and always will.”

As he brushed his mouth against hers, her arms folded around his shoulders, surrendering to him completely. Once more he took her. She had never been loved so tenderly.

_ Colours swarming, soaring... _

Their release came, and she clung to him, feeling the muscles in his back ripple as he drove her to heights even Sauren had never taken her to. Their moans echoed around the small cave, like a thousand lost sighs embracing their freedom after years of yearning and dreaming.

Their bodies, glistening from their love making, rippled with the reflection of the flames. They lay within each other’s arms, enjoying small, sweet kisses, bathing in the feel of each other’s skin.

Her eyes aflame, and golden hair fanned over the black furs, she was perfection. She had always been beautiful to him. Now, lying underneath him, panting softly with the flush of their passion still in her cheeks, she was even more so.

Looking up at him, she asked, “Was I worth the wait then?” She tugged lightly at his long hair as it brushed over her collarbone,

He smiled, his mouth hovering over hers. “Most definitely.” With a hitch of his eyebrows, he asked, “Was I?”

She shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “I think ...you’re in need of more practice.”

She squealed as he rolled over, pulling her with him and smacking her behind, playfully. Their laughter resounded through the cavern.


	35. The Hunt For Dar’khan Drathir

 

* * *

Morning, and after seeing the fire was well doused, the two rogues left the safety of the cave. Both had honed their blades earlier using their sharpening stones and poisons were applied in the blades’ feeders. They checked each other’s weaponry was secured in their scabbards, bracers and belts. Now they were ready for battle. Today, Dar’khan Drathir would die. And this time, he would stay dead.

The morning was draped in a dense fog. It would provide cover for the Rangers at least. The assassins were expecting five of them to accompany them into the Tower of the Damned. Past attempts at killing the traitor had failed due to the combined magic and abilities of his faithful disciples. Therefore, this time the Rangers were to wait until the assassins were in position near each of Dar’khan’s four lieutenants. They would disable them where possible before the Rangers joined in the attack. Hopefully, they would reach Dar’Khan before he was advised of their presence.

They made their way down the hills towards Deatholme, hoping the Rangers would be waiting for them. Fortunately, they were. Before they reached them, Camnath stopped and grabbed Tiene by the arm. “You sure you’re going to be okay doing this?” he asked.

She looked into his eyes wondering why he would even ask that question. He had not asked because of any doubt in her ability, and certainly nothing to do with past crushes. She laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “He is but a ghost of the past, Camnath. I will be fine. I owe it to my family and to Quel’thalas. Also by doing this, it will help Lor’themar’s campaign to join the Horde. It will win him favour with Warchief Thrall.”

“Just promise me you won’t take risks, Tiene. If he proves too strong, you must retreat.”

“There is always risk, Camnath, you know that.”

“You know what I mean. And I only say it, because I care about you.”

She smiled up at him. “You’re really cute when you go all protective you know,” she pinched his cheeks. She turned to move away, but he pulled her back.

“Cute and protective, my ass,” he said, before he planted a deep kiss on her lips. “I’m just making sure you’re in my bed tonight.” He smirked.

She pushed him back. “Presumptuous, are we not?”

He grinned wider. “I can tell when a woman wants me, Tiene,” he said surveying the area around them. “And you,  _want_  me.” His eyes came to rest on her face.

She smiled. “I may prove too much for you, Camnath Sunspear.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “We’ll see who has the better stamina. Later.”

They grinned at each other one more time before they joined the Rangers.

The Rangers’ Lieutenant greeted the rogues. Although Tiene did not know the lieutenant well, she nonetheless recognised him as having been one of Duthan’s squad. He nodded in respect and explained they had been given orders by Lor’themar on their plan of attack.

Camnath proceeded to explain further. In order to try and prevent the scourge from attacking them en masse, he and Tiene would lead, and deal with those in their way. Once the path was clear, the Rangers could despatch Dar’khan’s lieutenants without drawing too much attention. Hopefully, anyway, that was the plan.

With one last look at Tiene, Camnath turned to lead the way, but Tiene snuck out in front. He sighed. He should have known she would do that.

Both rogues stealthed, using the traditional method by blending into their surroundings. While the Rangers could not see them, they had their own form of stealthing known as camouflage, which worked on the same principle as the rogue’s technique, but was not as reliable to keep them completely concealed, as the air around them would distort. Camnath and Tiene could keep tabs on each other easily enough. The Rangers waited until they saw corpses starting to litter the way before they made their move forward.

The assassins made their way towards the gazebo that lay left of the main gate to Deatholme. Here they would find the first of the Magister’s lieutenants, Mirdoran the Fallen. The one time warrior, although now mere bones, was nonetheless a formidable foe who excelled at rending his attackers’ armour to the point it afforded the wearer minimal protection. He would then pummell them mercilessly with his shield before dealing the final fatal blow. With no flesh on this foe, he was going to be tricky even for the skilled assassins to disable. Camnath had a plan though. He had made some specially strengthened garrotte lines from the vines in the woods. Longer than the normal requirement of such a weapon, they would use these to bind the skeleton’s limbs and bring him down, therefore removing his ability to sunder their armour and give them a pasting with his shield.

They could see the warped air that denoted the presence of the Rangers around the gazebo. This had to be timed so they didn’t end up getting the rangers arrows up their butts. Camnath snuck round the edge and handed Tiene one end of the special garrotte. As he did, he brushed her palm with his fingers and wore a sultry smile on his mouth. She grinned. Their mission had just become a bit of an erotic dance.

They waited until Mirdoran faced away, then on Camnath’s signal, they attacked. Quickly, as they brought the vine along the back of the lieutenant’s legs, Tiene leapt in the air and spun to face the way she had come, pulling the vine around the chest and arms of the bony foe. At the same time Camnath rolled on the ground and like Tiene, turned in the direction they had come from, binding the warrior’s legs. Then they swapped roles, Tiene on the ground and Camnath in the air. Together they knotted the lieutenant and he fell with a crash of armour and hollow rattling of bones on the stone floor. The two rogue’s quickly thrust the bladed ends of the garrotte into cracks on the floor, pinning the skeleton in place then they somersaulted to the Ranger lieutenant . “All yours,” Camnath whispered to him.

Three of the rangers attacked Mirdoran with their swords, hacking at the joints of the creature, dismembering it piece by piece, clashing steel against hollow bone. The other two Rangers stood at the ready with their bows should any other scourge be attracted by the disturbance.

As they carried out the despatching of lieutenant number one, Camnath grabbed Tiene’s chin in his hand and brought his mouth down hard on hers. She kissed him back just as feverishly. “That’s one down towards tonight’s promise,” he breathed in her ear then moved away towards their next target. Tiene watched him, his ponytail swishing with his movements. Her body trembled with the anticipation of the night’s pleasure.

She followed after him. Still in stealth, they were able to walk freely towards their next destination, the slaughterhouse to the east and the complete opposite to their last victim. This one, an abomination, known as Borgoth the Bloodletter had more blood, guts and flesh than any one creature would need, all held together by crude stitching and metal pins. He was a mean son of a corehound too, wielding axes, hatchets and chains to grapple his next kill.

“One extreme to the other,” Tiene commented.

“Yes, but at least we have plenty points to attack.” They waited for the Rangers to catch up with them. It was decided archers would try pull the creature more into the centre of the structure, but they were warned about his grappling hook. The assassins would go in behind the beast and attack from there.

The first volley of arrows startled the lumbering creature and with a grunt it heaved its repulsive mass, chains rattling and chinking across the floor, into the centre of the chamber where the remains of his last victim was still painted the stone slab that served as his butcher’s table. As soon as he was free from the restraints of the smaller chamber they had found him in, Tiene ran and catapulted herself up, jumping up between the stone pillars of the doorway, until she was high enough to project herself forward onto the abomination’s shoulders. She was about to drive both her blades into its brainstem and jugular, but she didn’t bargain on its extra limb coming up from the side.

Too late, Camnath shouted a warning at her. She turned just as the enormous hand grabbed her and launched her across the central chamber. She impacted the wall and slid down. Her face scrunched up at the pain of her skin being scraped down the rough surface. She landed with a brutal thud, but all it did was engage her fury, and in a split second she was back up, stealthed and repeated her attack, this time well aware of the offending extra limb.

The Rangers increased their barrage of arrows careful to aim at the lower part of the creature so not to accidently hit their rogue comrades. Most of the missiles simply bounced off the creature’s skin with muted thwacks, doing no damage at all. Two of them joined in the assault opting to fight with their swords, but the hulking piece of putrid flesh swung his axe and hatchet relentlessly.

Camnath followed Tiene’s lead also bounding up the pillars, but instead of landing on the beast he thrust his daggers between its shoulder blades. Twisting the daggers he let his weight pull him downwards, slicing open the repellent flesh of the creature, the sound like wet thick canvas being rent . It roared in pain and tried to catch its attacker with its extra limb as he continued to open it further, guts spilling out over his hands and head and landing with a sickening squelch and slop on the floor.

Tiene had resumed her attack position, and thanks to the distraction created by Camnath, she drove her daggers home. Blood spewed from the entry points and sprayed around the chamber as the abomination staggered and stumbled. It’s hands went to its neck in a vain attempt to stem the torrent, but it was a losing battle. As the towering figure started to fall forward, Tiene jumped and landed softly near the Ranger Lieutenant.

Camnath came running over and briskly turned her round to check her injuries. Thankfully it looked worse than it actually was, but would still need properly cleaned and tended. He leaned down to her and whispered so the Ranger lieutenantdid not hear. “Guess you’re on top, then.”

She turned round and looked up at him. He was incorrigible, but it made her smile. She pointed to his head. “Not one of your better ensembles. You better take a good bath before any action tonight,” she grinned.

He shook his head and a pile of putrid guts fell from his hair, some slid down his cheek. He looked back at her. “You can scrub my back, woman.” He smacked her butt playfully. The Ranger lieutenant raised a quizzical eyebrow. The two rogues turned and left the slaughterhouse, suppressing their laughter.

The next one would be found in the crypt and it was a Shade, Jurion the Deceiver and would probably prove to be the trickiest. Shades, looking like nothing more than giant wisps of smoke, were amongst the most loyal of scourge followers and known for their unequalled ability to scout and report events and disturbances back to whoever was in command at the time. They were hard to detect, only being made visible and gaining substance through the intervention of magic. The only way they had a hope of defeating Jurion, was to infuriate him and therefore make him reckless about his own safety. But how would one do that? This one had Camnath confounded.

Tiene however, had thought this one through. Jurion would have a telepathic link with Dar’khan, and could give away their presence once he was aware of it. The link required concentration however, and that was something she was not going to allow the shade to have. She was going to draw the shade from its shadows of the crypt by using the magic taught her by Inaris. Her plan then was to taunt it by getting it to remember it’s former life. This would make it manifest to the degree it had actual physical form for the attackers to fight. Then and only then would they have a hope of defeating it.

At first, Camnath was not keen at her goading such a powerful entity, but as she explained, he knew there was no other way. As it turned out, her plan worked well, and the seemingly undefeatable ghost was finally laid to rest.

The last of Dar’khan’s lieutenants was a skeleton mage known as Masophet the Black. He was to be located in the other slaughterhouse to the south of the citadel. Reputedly powerful, he was nonetheless predictable and the combined efforts of rogues and Rangers dispatched him quickly enough.

The final battle was ahead of them now. Once more stealthed, they made their way up to the Tower of the Damned. A few feet from the steps, Tiene halted. Her heart hammered a little too hard. Inside was the man who had all but wiped out Quel’thalas and taken her family with it, along with many other innocent elves. In his insatiable quest for power he had turned traitor on his people. His death could now change the course of her nation and bring it hope once more.

“Tiene?” Camnath sensed her hesitancy. When she didn’t answer he spoke again. “I have not forgotten how he played quite a key role in your life ...”

Her eyes focused on him and they were full of anger, but it was not aimed at the handsome ebony haired man beside her. “Do not worry Camnath. The only feelings I have now for Dar’khan are hate and rage. I also remember something though. His weakness.”

Camnath took a deep breath. “And what was that?”

A moment passed. Then another. “His ego,” she said finally.

He looked at her. He had never seen her eyes so hard, so focused. “Okay, let’s move.” With that they stalked towards their target.

The rogues entered the tower, making straight for Dar’khan leaving the Rangers to despatch all other disciples of the magister as they progressed through the building. Tiene swapped stealth technique to magic without warning. Camnath swore under his breath, he had not expected her to do that. Now he could not detect her. He saw a small spark on the stone wall about six feet ahead. She had given him a sign as to where she was. He did not dare call to her in case it alerted any nearby foes. What was she playing at though, he wondered. Why the change? The odd spark or ting of a blade on the walls kept him informed of her progress until finally, they had reached the bowels of the structure.

There, off to the right of a small room, was the man himself. Not as debonair as they both remembered him from years gone by.

Tiene was stunned to find she felt sympathy for him. He had once been so vibrant, so exuberant, as bright and as beautiful as the world he had helped to create for their people to thrive in. His resurrections from the ‘deaths’ dealt him through the power of the Sunwell had not maintained his good grooming. Now he was more Lich than elf, his face gaunt with sunken cheeks, deathly pallor draped by long, white, lank hair. A hollow, haunted creature. The only spark remaining was the glint of madness and hunger for power that resided in his black eyes.

She shook and reminded herself that this beast had been largely responsible for robbing her of her family and was most definitely at fault for the decimation of her beloved home.

She hoped Camnath had the sense to get to the back of the room as they had originally planned, but as she had deviated from that herself, she had no way of knowing if he had kept to their original agreement. She could only hope he did. Behind them she could hear the faint clash of steel and thwack of arrows being fired.

She noticed movement in two corners of the room, and skeletal mages materialised with their bony companions. Dar’khan near floated out to the centre of the room and spoke with his disciples. “Go see to that fracas out there. No doubt some pathetic would-be heroes have come to try their hand at killing me ... again.” A bitter laugh left his dry mouth. The servants did as they were told, leaving the room empty, bar for the man himself and two assassins.

The one-time magister, now necromancer tilted his head to one side, as if listening for the sound of a pin to drop upon the polished stone floor.

_Don’t move, don’t even breathe_ , Tiene thought, hoping somehow Camnath would pick up on her warning.

“I know someone is there,” Dar’khan’s velvety voice spoke. “And I sense I know you.”

Without warning, Tiene dropped her concealment. Camnath almost sprang forward, but forced himself to stay still. He was furious, but realised doing anything rash may end up in her being hurt. That was why she swapped methods. She knew Dar’khan could sense when magic was present. She was ensuring his attention was focused on her and her alone.

The necromancer’s eyes widened as he saw the young woman in front of him, covered in blood spatters and holding two daggers loosely at her sides. “Tiene?”

She merely shifted onto her other foot, staring at the thing he had become. She remained still as her slid over to where she stood. He circled a couple of times, then halted in front of her. “My! Haven’t you  _blossomed_ ,” he softly caressed a strand of her hair, letting it run between his long thin fingers. A shudder ran down her spine. “I see I still have an effect on you, then,” he smiled, slyly at her. Dry mouth or not, it still held her gaze.

Camnath was bristling at the audacity of the traitorous magister.

“Indeed you do, Dar’khan,” Tiene replied. Her voice was hoarse. She gazed up at the magister, and a small smile stretched her mouth. “I admit, I was curious to see what it would be like standing next to a man who is as powerful as the Titans. A necromancer now, too.”

Camnath stopped his circuit of the room.  _What game is she playing_?

“Really?” Dar’khan grinned. “Yet you bring those who seek to end me,” he gestured towards the outer hall where muffled sounds of fighting continued.

“Not I, Dar’khan. I merely followed them and waited for an opportunity to sneak in here. I also have a debt to pay, if you remember.”

He circled her again, his hand hovering but not quite touching her as he moved. “Ahh, but I thought that was invalidated.”

“Was it?” she turned on the soft smile of a more innocent Tiene from years gone by.

The magister’s brow furrowed. “I distinctly remember you managing to persuade your father by yourself to become...” he waved a dismissive hand in her direction, “...what you have become.”

“I did yes. But you were relentless for some time after and, I quote, ” _I will collect that kiss Tiene, make no mistake_.” She sighed. “But, you never did.”

Dar’khan paused, momentarily surprised, then he moved close enough for his body to touch hers, his mouth no more than a cruel, severe slit. He cupped her chin in his cold hand. “What do you take me for, Tiene? Did you think that I would be unable to see behind your façade? I am not Sauren Nightflame, foolish girl. It will take much more than cherry lips and ...” his eyes roamed, “...a tempting body to thwart  _me_.”

Two Rangers suddenly appeared at the door, arrows nocked and ready. Dar’khan’s lip turned to a sneer and with his free hand cast a cloud of shadow at his attackers. The Rangers moved back, their advantage lost. But another emerged from under the centre of the cloud brandishing his sword. Dar’khan’s head snapped round and he stared at the Ranger, his fingers already starting to form another blast of shadow.

His cast was interrupted however as the feel of cold steel was drawn across his throat to the back of his neck. The blood started as a mere trickle before becoming fast flowing rivulets down the front of his robe. He turned back towards Tiene, his eyes wide in disbelief. The shadow magic he had cast dispersed.

“Yet here you are,” she smirked. Now she was the one who did the circling. “Arrogant , as ever. You did not heed my warning from the first time I drew a blade on you all those years ago. You thought I was just a silly little girl. But, I did warn you, did I not?” Her eyes blazed with a ferocity unknown to even her until that moment.

The necromancer still clutched his throat, the blood spilling over his fingers. Tiene was not for letting it be quick, she wanted him to know this was his demise, and exactly why and by whose hand, he had so grossly underestimated. “The kiss I referred to, Dar’khan ...” she said as she waved the weapon of his demise in front of his disbelieving face.  “ ... was the kiss of  _death_. Permanent - this time.”

Then she grabbed the front of his robe, drenched as it was and sliced his throat deep again, her blades even cutting through his fingers as he clutched the wound. “For Quel’thalas!” she shouted. He tried to speak but guttural mumblings was all he could manage. He stared, wide-eyed at his disfigured hand.

The blade found its target once more. “For all those you betrayed!” Her voice bore more poison than her blades ever could.

A final slice nearly decapitated him, the ching of steel sounded as it hit bone. “And this is for my family!” She unceremoniously dropped the dying magister and cleaned her blade on the only small area of his robe that had been spared the gush of blood.

His body squirmed as he gurgled in the bloodbath a hand reaching out trying to grab her leg. She moved out of reach and watched until he stilled. Stepping over the corpse she spat on him, then instructed the Rangers to take his head, before she hurriedly left the room.

Camnath, who had remained stealthed, utterly stunned by her tactics, suddenly jolted from his position and leapt after her. He reached the door as he saw her back disappearing round the corner. He flew after her. Again, she was way ahead of him, her body having taken an impossible shot of adrenalin as she desperately ran to get out of the Tower of the Damned.

He found her crouched on the top step of the building, her shoulders wracked with sobs. In her hand, she held the braid she had carefully bound from combining her father’s and brothers’ locks of hair. In that moment he understood why she had deviated from their plan, why she had chosen to take Dar’khan on herself. He and the Rangers had merely been instrumental to her doling out justice.

He approached her slowly, then kneeling beside her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She threw herself into his arms, still sobbing. He pulled her close, hushing her as he rocked her gently. The vengeance that had driven her was now appeased. She had dealt the blows that avenged her beloved family and all those who had suffered at the magister’s hands. It was as if she had achieved the ultimate goal for which all her hard training and dedication over the years had been undertaken. As such, part of her was gone, lost forever. Her future unsure, unclear, the focus for her existence these past few months, extinguished.

They were embarking on a new life now though, as Blood Elves. Word had been sent to the Farstriders Enclave and indeed throughout the ravaged Quel’thalas, that this had been decreed by Prince Kael’thas during his recent visit to Silvermoon. And so, a new future lay ahead.

“Now, we can live, Tiene,” he whispered. “We will grow, we will build. And, we will love.” He leaned back to look at her.

Her eyes still wet with tears of yesterdays, gradually focused on the ebony haired elf who held her tenderly. Swallowing, she found her voice. “Yes, Camnath. And we will let no-one harm our people again. Tal anu’men no Sin’dorei.” *

* * *

 

* Tal anu’men no Sin’dorei – Death to all who oppose the Sin’dorei


	36. Responsibilities

Camnath and Tiene spent the night at Farstrider Enclave after their encounter with Dar’khan. Tiene had insisted that the Magister’s head was placed in a sack for her to deliver to Lor’themar the next day. The rest of the body had been dismembered, burned and then scattered to the four corners of Quel’thalas. Tiene felt it was insurance, against the evil that was Dar’khan, from ever rising again.

**_Music: BEAUTIFUL by Crush_ **

As the night drew to an end, Camnath tended to her wounded back, gently bathing the cuts earned from her impact on the slaughterhouse wall when battling with Borgoth the Bloodletter. They were nothing serious but needed to be cleaned to prevent infection.

He knew she was exhausted from their day’s work, perhaps on a more emotional level than physical, and so he simply held her in his arms as he sat in bed beside her, planting little kisses on her brow. She whispered that she loved him, before slipping into the land of dreams. She snoozed, snuggling against him, her fingers laced in his long ebony hair.

Revisiting the past, his memory drifted. In particular to that fateful night at the Gathering, years ago. Initially, of course, he had only seen what Sauren had wanted him to see. The shame he felt, after turning and walking away, leaving her to have to deal with that monster. He had berated himself for that for a very long time indeed. He still did, if he was honest.

His mouth twitched. There was still a residue of bitterness towards Sauren too, even though he was now dead. For all he’d  _witnessed_  his death, but he would never admit that to Tiene. She had almost caught him watching from the battlements. He had been informed by Belaen of her plan, and he had to see her putting an end to the beast who had kept them apart for so long. It had been hard to watch as she had paraded about in that...outfit, taunting Sauren, making him think she had a different plan to the one she going to execute. It took all the strength he had not to burst through the window, once she had dealt the final blow.

Yet now,  _he_  was the one lying beside her, her soft breath ghosting on  _his_  chest. And finally, he felt in harmony with all things. His world, however, broken in way of the land and habitat, had never felt so rich and full as it did at this precise moment. She was his life. He would protect her, defend her to the bitter end. He smiled, and a small laugh escaped him as he realised she could probably defend  _him_  better than he could  _her_. But, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and hopefully...make her happy. She so deserved to be happy.

He pondered their future as he watched her sleeping. His beautiful Tiene. So brave, so loving. He smiled as he remembered Belaen’s words, “... _your paths will cross in the future, when the time is right._ " Well, here it was, years later, and amid such sorrow and loss. But, from the ashes, Phoenix’ were born. Now they were Sin’dorei, Blood Elves. Their numbers were few, a small nation now. There was much healing and building to be done. It would take time, but they were strong, and they would grow.

The corners of his mouth curled. Perhaps he and Tiene could have a hand in that too, one day. He visualised them with a family. Sons and daughters, he mused. Maybe two of each? That would be nice, he thought, inadvertently tightening his arm around her shoulders. Her fingers briefly weaved through his hair, then she settled again.

It amazed him how brave she had been after all she had endured and the intolerable loss of her beloved family. It still touched his heart when he remembered her on the beach, watching the boat that carried her father and brothers towards their final horizon. He knew not how he would have handled losing his parents, Faealle, his little sister as he still called her, but he doubted very much that he would have been as dignified as Tiene had been. Merely thinking about it brought a lump to his throat.

She stirred, tightening her arm around him, a small sound of contentment escaping her lips. He smiled. A strand of her hair slipped over her face. Gently he placed it behind her ear.

Her eyes flickered open at his touch and she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Her mouth curled at the sides. “Were you watching me sleep?”

He stroked her cheek. “Yes. You looked so peaceful.” He kissed her brow and slid down the bed, so their faces were near level. He pulled her into his embrace, her arms responding by circling him.

She sighed. “I would give anything to stay like this,” she said. “Promise you’ll never leave me Camnath.”

“I promise. I will always be here for you, Tiene.” He placed her hand on his heart. “This beats only for you.”

She smiled. “And you have mine. Guard it well, my love.”

“Always and forever. Now sleep, my sweet lady.”

“I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too.”

“I love you more,” she smiled snuggling closer.

“No you don’t.” He smirked.

“I do so.”

“Not a chance.”

“Told you I’d be too much for you,” she whispered, smugly.

“Women always win when it comes to talking Tiene, that doesn’t count.” He laughed softly.

She nipped him. He flinched.

“Go to sleep, woman.” His face beaming from her mischievousness.

She nipped him again, laughing as she did so.

He rolled her over and pinned her hands either side of her head. “Told you I loved you more.” Her eyes glistened, a teasing grin playing on her soft mouth.

Smiling, he said, “You can  _tell_  me all you want, my love, but I will  _show_  you what it is to be truly loved.” His lips brushed her throat as he wrapped her in his arms.

The only sounds that tumbled from her mouth after that, were soft, deep sighs.

 

**_Music: The Sin'dorei composed by Russell Brower from The Burning Legion_ **

 

Rebuilding Silvermoon City would be an arduous task. As the high elves worked methodically clearing away the rubble and general cleaning up of the city, it was obvious that the effort and time required in resurrecting the one-time jewel of the elven nation would be punishing indeed. Without the Sunwell the people would have to resort to regenerating the city the old-fashioned way, without magic. The glory days were over and it saddened Tiene immensely.

All the more so now knowing she had no home to return to, no father waiting to hug her and no Inaris or Duthan to tease her. As the thoughts flooded her mind, her pace slowed. A pain burned in her chest and her eyes brimmed with tears. She had been fine this morning, even when she started out for the journey to the city. Perhaps it hadn’t seemed real then. Now with the broken pavements beneath her feet, the burned and tumbled buildings surrounding her and their destination taking her through the area where her home had once stood, the grim reality hit hard.

Camnath turned when he realised she had stopped. She stood, head down, trembling. He moved to her side quickly and put his arm around her shoulders pulling her against him. He did not need to ask, he knew, and he felt her pain too.

She put her arm around his waist, her fingers wringing his tunic. She took a few short, deep breaths, then nodded her head in reassurance. He kissed her brow.

“Tiene?” They looked to where the timid voice came from. The two rogues exchanged surprised glances.

“Sedrine,” Tiene acknowledged. Here stood the girl, all grown up, who used to look down her nose as if Tiene were nothing more than vermin. Yet here she was, making the first move to speak.

Sedrine made towards the couple, her steps small and dainty as they had always been. She nodded to Camnath, something almost akin to a humble smile on her lips. “I – I wanted to pass on my condolences. I heard about…” Her voice faltered, and Tiene was surprised to see tears in her eyes. Sedrine’s shoulders rose and fell as she tried to regain composure. “I am truly sorry, Tiene.”

Fighting her own sorrow, she was still able to appreciate the sentiment and especially as it must have been hard for Sedrine to approach her. Mustering some decorum of her own she thanked Sedrine and enquired if her family were alright. They were. Tiene smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. She turned to leave when Sedrine moved and touched her arm. Tiene focused on the woman in front of her. This was no longer the spoiled, self-assured, arrogant girl from years gone by. This was a woman who now understood the world outside of her own little bubble. A world of harsh reality, sorrow and death. “I also want to apologise for things I said and done … to  _both_ of you, in the past.” She quickly glanced at Camnath, an uncertain smile flickering on her mouth.

Tiene was overwhelmed. Quite why Sedrine had felt the need to say that, she did not know, but it somehow had a profound effect on her. She hugged the woman gently. “I appreciate that Sedrine. Let us leave the past where it belongs and look ahead now, work towards a brighter tomorrow.” She stepped back, lightly patting Sedrine’s hand.

Sedrine smiled. “Yes, I hope so, Tiene. Thank you.” Then with one last look at Camnath, hoping for some sign of forgiveness for past deeds, she was awarded a smile and a nod from the ebony haired elf too. She turned and left, in her familiar dainty steps.

Camnath looked at Tiene with raised eyebrows. It had been an odd moment. Tiene’s reaction to Sedrine’s words, however, made him love her all the more. He pulled her close and gave her a soft kiss. She looked at him. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said in reply to her unspoken question.

Wrapping her arm around his waist again, they continued towards Sunfury Spire. It was tempting to look through Murder Row to see if any of the Students of Shadow trainers were around, but being realistic, she resisted the urge. It would be too painful to find none had survived. If they had, however, she would find out in good time.

The fountain in The Court of the Sun, needless to say, was dry, its statue still in pieces in its centre.Similarly, the stairs to the Spire were still broken in places with rubble covering a large area towards the entrance of the building. Ascending the stairs they saw some of the Rangers milling about. There was such melancholy in the air.They seemed to be awaiting orders.

From the entrance to the Spire, Lor’themar emerged, his eye focusing on a scroll in his right hand. His left held many more pieces of parchment. Tiene smiled as she watched him striding towards the Rangers. He was utterly focused on what he was reading and did not notice her or Camnath until he looked up and started to speak with one of the Ranger lieutenants. He smiled broadly at seeing the couple and indicated he would be with them soon. He continued to talk to the Rangers, issuing some of the parchment to three lieutenants, but keeping the scroll. The Rangers turned and signalled for their men to follow, then left the Spire grounds.

Lor’themar came forward and hugged Tiene. “Oh, it  _is_ good to see you, Tiene.” He then looked at Camnath and held out his hand. The two elves shook their greeting.

Tiene was a little taken aback at the sound of relief in his voice as if she was a welcome distraction. As she studied his face she realised he was wrought with making decisions which perhaps were not meant, ordinarily, for him to make. Another wave of sadness washed over her as she knew she was witnessing a major change in the man before her. The once driven Ranger who had worked his way up the ranks, earning respect from all fellow Rangers, and who enjoyed a family life with her, her brothers and father, laughing and celebrating great times, was fading before her very eyes. In his place was a man who shouldered responsibilities he did not ask for, nor indeed believe he was capable of executing. Yet, she knew he had the ability to do whatever was required. Lor’themar was not a man to kneel down defeated. But, he did indeed look tired.

She linked arms with him. “We have a gift for you, brother, a little gruesome I admit, but one we were very happy to acquire.”

He laughed quietly. “I have heard of your success Tiene, and of your final blows which ended him. I believed in you, my sister, there was no need to evidence it, but thank you. You have both blessed Quel’thalas with a great service.”

He signalled to one of the guards that stood at the entrance of the Spire and asked him to dispose of the package Camnath carried. He then led the two rogues into the Spire where he took them through to a private set of rooms, which all things considered were in a fairly liveable condition.

Large cracks ran up the walls, all the way to the domed ceiling, drawing elaborate designs across the plaster, exposing some of the raw brick behind. The once beautiful chandeliers hung on fractured chains minus their candle lights, looking like rusty, iron skeletons rent of their opulence. Dust particles danced and swirled on the sun’s rays as they filtered through the remaining stained glass panes, dangerous shards still sitting in place and others scattered on the floor.

The furniture, mostly torn and dusty in places and had not been used since the blast of the Sunwell. The selected few items in use had been cleaned and made presentable and were positioned around the large fireplace.

Lor’themar looked apologetically at the couple, for the surroundings. They smiled and told him not to concern himself with trivial things and besides it was far better than they had expected. He invited them to sit. Placing the scroll he had kept hold of since they’d arrived onto a side table, he then moved to the carved wooden sideboard where an assortment of wines sat. He paused for a few moments, deliberating on the best one to choose, then finally having made his decision he poured a couple of glasses for his guests, handing them over graciously. With a glass for himself he crossed back over the room and flopped down, exhausted, into one of the better chairs.

They raised their glasses to each other and drank. The Ranger Lord drank deeply, Tiene noticed.

“You look tired, brother,” she said, cupping her glass in both hands. “When was the last time you slept?”

Lor’themar stared into his glass as he gently swirled the contents, watching it lap and coat the edges. He smiled lopsidedly. “About three days ago. I think.”

Tiene shifted forward on the sofa. “You cannot keep going like that Lor’themar. Is this what Prince Kael’thas asked of you? Why isn’t  _he_  overseeing his people?”

Lor’themar shifted in his seat. “He has gone to help our people in other ways Tiene. He is fighting with the Alliance…”

“Even though his father had withdrawn from them?”

The Ranger Lord fixed her with his one good eye. “It is our best hope of defeating the scourge, Tiene. Besides, politics is a dirty river which needs bridges built now and again to cross often difficult currents. That is how a nation can prosper.”

“And fighting alongside a faction, whose belly that evil snake Arthas, crawled out of, is building a bridge?”

Lor’themar held her gaze. In as gentle a tone as he could muster, he said, ” _You_  have fought beside them for years too, Tiene, do not forget that.”

She flinched. Camnath took her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers. Lor’themar noticed the gesture. The corner of his mouth twitched. “They are not all like Arthas, Tiene. We have had our fair share of traitors too, one of which you just delivered the head, moments ago.”

He was speaking the truth. She took a deep breath and calmed. “I’m sorry. What I’m really concerned about is the fact he left you to mop all this mess up. You are a Ranger, Lor’themar. The Farstriders are your life.”

The Ranger Lord stood and moved across to the sideboard again. He topped up his glass and held it up in an offer to his guests. They declined with a shake of their heads. Moving back to his seat, he took a deep breath and explained. “I feel those days are numbered. In fact, I know they are. Apart from keeping what remains of the scourge in our lands to a minimum, there is little call for me to be out there now. Kael’thas has made Halduron Brightwing, Ranger-General of Silvermoon, now that Sylvanas is … a banshee.” A look of distaste crossed his face.

Tiene knew Halduron had been a good friend to Lor’themar and also Duthan. There had been no bitterness about his promotion in Lor’themar’s voice, it was at the Banshee Queen he sneered , but there was something going on which she still did not understand. “So where does that leave you?”

He leaned over to the little table next to his chair and picked up the scroll he had placed there moments ago. “Here, it tells you.” He handed the letter to her.

Tiene took the letter. Camnath sat forward and both of them read it.

_Lor’themar Theron_

_Ranger Lord of the Farstrider Rangers_

_I, Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider, Prince of Quel’thalas, do hereby proclaim that the above named, Lor’themar Theron, be duly appointed Regent Lord of Quel’thalas to as the leading authority for the Sin’dorei nation._

_He will lead the restoration of Quel’thalas and be the individual to be approached in the first instance on all matters pertaining to the position of a Regent Lord be it in peacetime or in war._

_Kael’thas Sunstrider_

_Prince of Quel’thalas_

 

 

The couple looked up, in awe of what they had just read. But the man sitting opposite them did not share their enthusiasm. Whilst never afraid of hard work, ruling a nation was not his idea of a career choice.

He had been bestowed a new title. A title which carried tremendous responsibility, in effect, a political career. A title which, he clearly did not favour nor embrace, but one which he would carry out honourably and as conscientiously as he could.

Lor’themar Theron, once Ranger, Ranger Captain and Ranger Lord, was now Regent Lord of Quel’thalas.


	37. Confession

* * *

Lor’themar had welcomed the distraction of the rogues. It was good to relax a little, but a little was all he could afford. His responsibilities were many and not much time could be spent away from them. He had to leave them shortly after to continue with duties, but promised to join them for dinner, though he did warn them it would be fairly basic dining, supplies were limited. He would not tolerate lavish dining of the old days, while the people of Silvermoon sufficed with scraps. The couple understood perfectly. Supposing it had been merely bread and water they would not have minded. It was the fact they could spend some time with Lor’themar that was important.

While Lor’themar seen to things of state, the two rogues joined some of the elves who had been working tirelessly to clear areas of all the debris. Their help was appreciated and they managed to have a respectable area cleared by late afternoon. It nonetheless brought it home how long this entire exercise was going to take.

Camnath caught sight of Tiene as she moved slowly away from the team of elves. He somehow knew she would end up drawn to the inevitable. Watching her, it was almost as though a force was pulling her towards the broken house she once knew as home. Painful though it would be, he knew there would be items there that would be precious to her, and it was something that she needed to do. He kept a respectful distance behind her, but not so far that should she falter he would be at her side in a moment.

She turned and saw him. His attentiveness was never unwanted. She held out her hand which he clasped and they made their way in through the crumbled doorway. The entire north wall was gone where the kitchen area once stood and her bedroom had been directly above. The ceiling of the kitchen, though mostly gone at the north wall, still hung precariously to the southern side.

They very carefully stepped over the large pieces of brick, plaster and wood and moved through to the stairwell that led to the other rooms. Camnath moved ahead of her and ascended the broken stairs first, with due care. They took his weight easily enough, but he exercised caution. “Slowly,” he said to her and held out a steadying hand as she stepped up carefully. The odd creak and thin stream of plaster pouring like sand in an hourglass made them halt, always gauging safety before proceeding.

They reached the top hallway. Again the north side had been hit the worst and Tiene looked upon the remnants of her bedroom. Some of her old clothes were mangled up in the debris, her furniture, not one piece survived whole. Her bottom lip quivered. It almost felt as though her past life had been erased. She fought back the tears as she stared at her hands, imagining them and her entire body vanishing before her eyes, becoming transparent until she no longer existed. It was an unsettling feeling. She was jolted back to reality as she felt Camnath’s arms around her shoulders. He pulled her close against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I thought this would be a good idea,” she whimpered. “Now I’m not so sure.”

“It was never going to be easy, Tiene.”

“No. I suppose not,” she said.

“Come, let’s move.” He led her to the next room and the next and the next. If she had hoped to find anything as a memento she was bitterly disappointed. The explosion of the Sunwell had practically sandblasted everything that was not held together with bricks and mortar. Leaning against him, she inhaled deeply, then slowly breathed out. “At least it wasn’t able to destroy my memories of them,” she said, fighting hard to keep the tremor from her voice.

Camnath could only wrap his arms around her. No words would help. He did feel her pain though, and gently he guided her back down the stairs and out of the house. There was nothing there for her, other than pain. Her family’s images were emblazoned in her mind and imbedded in her heart, they were an inseparable part of her and always would be. Now, here, there was only a broken house, unsalvageable sticks of furniture and some powdered crockery.

Silently, they made their way back to the Spire, to freshen up before dinner. Lor’themar had shown them where they could access bathing facilities and a bed for the night. Granted, it was not palatial, but it had been made habitable as had another room for Lor’themar himself.

Some of the elves helping in the Spire were only too happy to fetch water for the tub in their room. News had spread that this was the couple who had brought an end to Dar’Khan and of course Tiene was the only surviving relative of Lor’themar, the man all the elves now looked to as leader.

Camnath helped Tiene wash her hair, gently rubbing her scalp and teasing out her blonde mane, ridding her of all the dust and dirt from their work that day. He felt her unwind as he rinsed out the soap. Gently squeezing the excess moisture from her hair, he wrapped it in a towel. Then held up another to wrap her in as she stepped out of the tub. She dried herself as he took his turn at bathing.

She undid his high knot and combed out the long ebony mane, before lathering and rinsing it. She took her time. It was almost like a form of therapy for her, and she seemed lost in thought as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Tiene,” he said softly.

“Hmm?” she continued massaging his scalp.

“I’ve been thinking. About us.” His voice had a nervous edge to it.

Her fingers stopped and he heard her sharp intake of breath. Instantly he turned round, clasping her hands. “Nothing bad,” he assured her. He saw a look of worry pass from her eyes. Still holding her hands, his mouth twitching a little nervously at the corners, he continued. “I want to make you happy, Tiene.”

“You do!” she replied, the little flicker of panic still lingering.

Her response made him smile, warmly. “I mean  _always_  though.” He saw the look of bewilderment still in her eyes. “I have accrued a fairly handsome sum of money over the years. I have enough to make us a nice home, nothing grand certainly ...” he smirked, “... but very presentable, and enough to give us a comfortable life thereafter.”

Her face had softened, the initial concern gone completely, replaced by a smile that quivered and eyes misted.

“Would you marry me, Tiene? Start a new life somewhere, together, maybe Kalimdor? For a while anyway, until at least Silvermoon is restored then we could come back here. Or not. I mean - see how you feel, take time to think about it. I don't...”

She silenced him with a kiss then clung to him, mindless that his wet hair was soaking her through again. “I can’t believe you are still nervous when speaking your feelings to me. It makes me love you all the more.”

He pulled back, a little coyly. “I’ll never be eloquent I’m afraid.”

“You’re perfect to me, and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“So, is that a yes, then?”

She laughed light-heartedly. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Then I’d like to ask for Lor’themar’s blessing, if you feel that would be appropriate.”

She was moved by his consideration. Lor’themar, although not blood related, was nonetheless looked upon as her brother, and the fact Camnath was wanting to honour that, touched her deeply. She simply nodded her approval, before embracing him again.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dinner was a relaxed affair and although Lor’themar had forewarned them the food would be basic, it was nonetheless wholesome and plentiful consisting of freshly caught fish, seasonal potatoes and vegetables. There was even cake for desert. They sat round one of the few remaining tables that had survived the destructive blast from the Sunwell. It was large enough for them to comfortably enjoy their dinner without being elbow to elbow.

It had been a busy day for all three. Lor’themar’s day of course had been mainly administrative and organisational, which irked him, the elves could tell. He was much happier when out actually doing something practical and he was already missing his days as a Ranger. He did however have some news regarding his scion, Kael’thas, whose efforts at retrieving some supplies in Silverpine Forest had had some interesting developments.

Apparently, something had been stirring up the scourge near Dalaran, and the Prince had been met by two Night Elves, a huntress priestess named Tyrande and a Watcher by the name of Maiev, who were in pursuit of an individual called Illidan Stormrage. According to them he was a servant of the Burning Legion, and a betrayer of their people.

On hearing this, Tiene couldn’t help but think that the Night Elves seemed to have their own version of Dar’khan Drathir and voiced this to Camnath and her brother.

Camnath nodded in agreement, Lor’themar raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. Maybe Tiene had a point. He continued to bring them up to speed on events surrounding the Prince. Kael’thas had assumed the disturbances around Dalaran were attributed to this Illidan. He explained what had happened to his people, which one of the elves, the one called Tyrande, had empathized with the plight of his people in Quel’thalas. She then agreed to help him and in exchange he would aid them.

The exercise had ended in tragedy however, as an attack from some lurking undead had resulted in Tyrande being dragged into the river when the bridge they crossed collapsed. Kael’thas had wanted to help her, but the other elf had said that she had known what she was getting into and that was the risks they took. Kael’thas had found this cold of the elf but had no option but to honour the deal he had made with them and continued on the hunt for Illidan. That had been as much as he had heard for the time being.

“What are your thoughts on this,” Camnath asked the Regent Lord as he took a sip of wine.

“Well,” Lor’themar inhaled deeply. “I have to wonder why he let a mere warden talk him out of helping her companion, and why he is set on helping her find this Illidan.”

“Hmm,” Tiene mumbled, taking a bite of cake. “More importantly, just how is this meant to help us, his people?”

“Time will tell. I am sure he knows what he is doing,” Lor’themar drained his glass.

” _Are_  you?” Tiene asked, eyeing her brother.

The Regent Lord held her stare. Tiene was able to read him. Had she been anyone else, he would have challenged her effrontery. The truth was, he did believe the prince was doing what he thought was right for his people. What was eating him was the fact that the prince was out there doing something constructive, while Lor’themar felt trapped in this crumbling city. He would always be loyal to Silvermoon, he just felt he could be more use elsewhere.

Camnath sensed a slight tension in the air, albeit non threatening to the relationship between Tiene and Lor’themar. Maybe it was time to mention something else.

He reached out and clasped Tiene’s hand. Her attention was drawn from her brother as she turned to Camnath. She knew by the look in his eyes, what he wanted to do. She gave him a brief nod.

Camnath took a deep breath, having decided to just come straight out with it. “I have asked Tiene to become my wife, and I am hoping it meets with your approval,” he began. “I would like to ask for your blessing, Lor’themar.”

The Regent Lord lowered his glass to the table slowly, and glanced between the two elves. He rose out of his chair and approached Camnath, his face unreadable. Camnath was starting to feel a little unsure as the tall ex Ranger neared. He inadvertently squeezed Tiene’s hand, she responded by running her thumb over his knuckles.

Lor’themar Theron stood in front of the younger elf, his one eye focused on him intently. He had planned on keeping him guessing just a moment longer as to his reply, but he could not maintain the pretence. His lips broke into a broad smile and he offered Camnath his hand. Camnath shook his hand, noticeably relieved that the Regent Lord had broken the tension. “Of course you have my blessing, Camnath” he said. “I am delighted by the news.” He gave him a congratulatory pat on the back.

He then moved round the table and plucked Tiene out of her seat and enclosed her in a bear hug. His action completely took her by surprise, her face said as much. He laughed lightly. “This is the best news I have heard in weeks,” he said, looking between the two of them. “Probably will be the best for a very, very long time.”

He focused on Tiene. A fleeting image of her as a young girl crossed his mind, with her unruly ways, her short-temper and haphazard housekeeping. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Tiene, this makes me so proud. I’ve watched you grow from a small child, to a rebellious youngling. I saw you become a promising student in a guild of rogues and now you are a fierce and talented fighter, brave beyond words. I’ve seen you show strength where others would have crumbled and possess dignity the likes of which would make a king weep. And now, you have bloomed into a beautiful woman and I see you happy, and very much in love.”

He held out his hand gesturing Camnath to join them. With his arms round both their shoulders he said, “You two were destined for each other. I am so glad you will be married. Truly I am.”

He moved round the table again and grabbed another bottle of wine. “I would say this requires a drink, wouldn’t you?”

It was to be one of the last times that Tiene would see her brother so incredibly happy.

They decided not to linger in Silvermoon after all, and although they were keen for their wedding day to arrive, they had people they needed to see and things to set in motion before it could go ahead. Lor’themar advised them not to waste too much time, and should simply focus on each other. Recent lessons had shown them all that it was best to grab every moment and treasure it, as circumstances out with their control could so easily alter the paths they travel. They returned to the Crimson Blade headquarters the following day.

 

* * *

* * *

 

On arrival, Tiene immediately sought out Brett for an update on how things were in Capital City. It seemed the Crimson Blade was uprooting however, negotiations still being finalised for a permanent base. There was a split occurring between the races in Lordaeron, it was gradual but it was happening nonetheless, and with it came a division of loyalties. For the time being, at least, the Blades had remained unified, but knew they could not stay in such an unsettled place.

It was deemed no longer safe for the headquarters to be based so close to the city boundaries. The scourge had laid waste to the once Alliance strong city, and now the Forsaken, led by none other than Sylvannas Windrunner had arrived to keep Lordaeron in the hands of the scourge. Many of the now named Blood Elves had mixed feelings about their former Ranger General. Some felt she betrayed her people as much as Dar’Khan had, whilst others empathized, believing Arthas had corrupted her, his power being too strong, she was nothing more than a puppet.

Tiene’s feelings weighed mostly towards the former assumption. More than anything because her brother had died trying to protect the Ranger General. Then Sylvannas just walked in the shadow of that pig Arthas, mutilating and cutting down her own people. A huge number of the Rangers died as she swept through Quel’thalas aiding the scourge in their culling of the elven nation. Still, Tiene was also wise enough to know that someone like Sylvannas, whether alive or undead, was not an individual you took on half-heartedly or simply by being fuelled with rage. In this particular instance, she supported the Blades and their decision to find new headquarters.

Temporary lodgings for them were found at a farmstead northwest of Capital City. Even though the scourge were dotted all over Lordaeron, there were, thankfully, some places that had been practically by-passed. It seemed their focus had been more on the Capital than the outlying hamlets and homesteads. For the time being, anyway. Brett knew this was a temporary measure.

An old farm house, no longer used but adequate for a temporary site, it’s location enabled them to get some of their supplies out without too much difficulty. Tiene had been helping to carry in some of the armour and weaponry from a wagon sitting outside. Finding space to put some of the items was proving harder as the supplies kept coming. Brett had even managed to salvage some of the books from the library and paintings, including the one with her parents and Sa’themar.

Shifting some books to make more space, she cursed as a tower of them collapsed. With a deep sigh she started to pick them all up, until she came across what their collapse had revealed. There in its gilt frame was a portrait of Sauren. It had been in the library she remembered, but he had not had it on display with the others that adorned the main wall. It had been hung high up amid the shelves of knowledge, as if he was watching over all who entered the library and the secreted Missions room.

Her breath caught in her throat. For a few moments, she felt like how he’d looked, that last time their eyes met. Disbelieving, mesmerised, horrified. The painting’s eyes seemed to defy her, watching intensely no matter how hard she tried to rebuild the tower to conceal the painting from view. It was as if he was preventing the books from being piled up again. She tried to placing the goods she had carried, in front of it too, but still ... he watched her. Even when she moved to the opposite side of the great hall, she felt a prickle at the back of her neck, imagining his eyes boring into her. The accusation, the glare of betrayal, the anger. The shock.

The  _hurt_?

She felt herself fold inwardly.  _Why_? Why did she feel such contrition after all he had done to those she truly cared for and loved. And why on Azeroth had Brett even brought this along? She was inexorably drawn back to the painting. Like a moth to a flame. Was this to be her lot? To be held to ransom by a dead man? She now had what she had always desired. Camnath, in all his goodness and heartfelt sincerity. The man she loved so deeply, wanted with every fibre of her being. Yet...this monster still intruded.

The scuff of a footstep alerted her to someone else’s presence. She turned her head sideways, just catching the glimpse of Brett’s mahogany leather armour. His eyes widened as he saw what had her attention. “Why is this here?” she asked. Her voice was dark, yet he could tell it was more to disguise whatever conflict she was going through at that moment.

“I didn’t know it was there, Tiene, I swear. The young ’uns. I told them to load the paintings and they must have brought it too. I thought they would only bother about the main ones. I’m sorry.”

She turned abruptly and came to stand in front of him. Her jaw was tight but her eyes never met his. “Get rid of it.  _Please_.” Then she hastened out of the room almost bumping in to Camnath as he was nearing the door with more armour.

“Tiene?” Surprise washed over his face at her urgency to leave.

She dodged him and ran to the woods. He looked into the hall. Brett was looking at him nonplussed. He dropped what he was carrying and ran after Tiene.

She weaved her way in and out between the trees, climbing small mounds and jumping down the other side. Twigs cracked underfoot and the rustling of ferns echoed through the canopy. Camnath was no slouch and he ran quickly, leaping over fallen trees and mossy mounds. He saw she was tiring, she was slowing.

“Tiene!” he called again.

She turned and on seeing him her eyes became almost feral as a moment later she ran back towards him. He slowed as she neared, then stumbled back slightly as she launched herself at him. Fiercely she kissed him, pulling at his jerkin, yanking open the straps and buckles, then she started to undo his britches.

He pulled back. “Tiene! Stop.”

She pushed forward again reaching for him. Once more he backed off holding his hands up in front, warding her off. “What’s going on, Tiene?” He was not averse to spontaneous loving but there was more to her mood than mere desire. It was almost as though she was possessed.

Then it started to dawn on him. He’d saw that look once before. That last night she looked at Sauren _,_ justbefore she somehow paralysed and killed him. Camnath started fastening his jerkin and retying his britches. He was fighting to keep anger at bay as he glanced at her from under his long dark lashes. “I am not  _him,_ Tiene. Nor will I ever be!” he said, pulling the last strap of his armour back firmly in place before turning to head back to the farmstead.

“I know!” she choked out. “I thank Belore  _and_ Elune that you are not like him.” She sank to the undergrowth.

He turned on hearing the foliage crackle as she landed heavily on her knees. She was crying. He stayed where he was, torn between leaving or going to her.

“The butterflies,” she whimpered. “They died that night. The glass fell to the floor and smashed. I – I couldn’t save them.”

He straightened to face her. How could he have been so stupid. He had blindly thought that everything was perfect, now that  _he_  was gone, erased. Nothing else mattered, nor had any importance. When finally they were together after all these years, he never even given a thought to what she had been through with Sauren. The emotional scars were bound to run deep.

“Every day Camnath, and I  _mean_   _every_  day, I thought of you. I saw first the young boy with grass stains on his cheeks, then the look of wonder in his eyes when he stealthed and he stole a kiss. But the memory always changed, into the older version of him at the Gathering when he looked at me with such hurt, and  _doubt_  in his eyes, before he – before he...”

“Walked away,” Camnath finished for her. His chest heaved at the memory. He slowly moved towards her.

Her eyes flashed, still burning with tears. “It took a  _long_  time for me to understand that had you stayed and challenged him, he would have killed you. All I felt then was, and I’m sorry to tell you this, for I know now it was not the case, but I felt abandoned.”

He ran his hand over his mouth, it had been one of his greatest regrets. He had chastised himself for years, for leaving that night. Whether telling him how it had made  _her_  feel, helped or made it worse, he knew not. But he could tell she needed to have this out in the open. She needed the wounds cauterised in order for the two of them to move on. Strangely, so did he.

“All Sauren knew was power,” she continued. “Derived from his insatiable lust and greed. He had taken the gift I had intended to give you that night. And I quickly realised it was the one thing I could utilise and turn against him.

“I visited a brothel,” Camnath’s eyes widened, but she remained impassive. “There, I learned from the madame how to deceive him. How to play him at his own game. To best him. Sex was his greatest weakness you see. So I ask you, Camnath - what does that make me?”

He knelt beside her, their eyes now locked. “A survivor, Tiene.”

She was starting to grow strong again. It seemed like a confession almost. A lifting of guilt? Shame?

She smiled wanly. “Somewhere, I lost my way, Camnath. I became like him. I became arrogant, believing I was destined to be a leader, I showed off. I even used my favour with him as a means to order Brett around.”

“I heard that only happened the once,” he said, recalling Belaen’s communiqué from Brett, telling him the story of when she entered Capital City during the scourge’s cull to save her friends.

“Once, is one time too many in my book, Camnath.”

He gently took her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb.

“Once I found out  _everything_  about him however, his involvement with Kel’thuzad, Dar’Khan, Arthas, and I found my friends slaughtered by him, turned into undead by those he helped fund in the art of necromancy, only  _then_  I finally woke up. Too late, however.” She faltered. “He had been so brutal to them Camnath, and had opened the way for Dar’Khan, Arthas and his scourge to annihilate our home and murder my family.” She took a few moments as she relived the pain of those events.

“Then,  _we_  met each other again. The ghost from my past became real and I felt alive. For the first time in years, I felt  _truly_  alive.” Her fleeting smile waned, and a distant look entered her eyes. “Then I saw that portrait in the room back there, and now I feel damaged, unclean again...”

“Wait! What portrait?”

“Sauren. There was a portrait in the library at headquarters. Brett explained the first years had helped gather the books and portraits bringing that one along too.”

“And this...portrait, has what? Made you remember things that were part of your life for years Tiene? Made you question yourself? Question us?”

Her eyes focused and she looked directly at him. “Are you telling me that a few moments ago, you did not question me too? Were you not going to leave me...  _again_ , Camnath?”

He lowered his head at the irony of it all. “The difference this time is, I would have come back, probably only minutes later, feeling like the selfish, cowardly, loathsome, stupid bastard, as I felt back then.”

A moment passed and somehow, they managed a smile. He lightly brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I love you Tiene, no matter what you had to do to get through those years. To me you are still that girl in the meadow, teaching a love-struck boy how to stealth. You will always be her...with a better body now, I must admit...” he grinned.

She laughed. He did too. He pulled her close. “I’m sorry, Tiene. I warned you I wasn’t very eloquent. I guess I hoped that now, we would just sail into the future, our past firmly behind us. I know now, there are things that happened which have moulded us into who we are today. But, my sweet lady,” he cupped her chin. “I have, and always will, love you, my darling, Tiene Firefury.” He kissed her softly, then the two of them sat amid the ferns and grasses, watching the sun through the trees, as it made its way to the horizon, ending one more busy day.


	38. Auberdine

_Darnassus, her love, torn from her hold_

_By The Well of Eternity in stories of old_

_Across the waves, her sweet voice doth sing_

_An ancient lullaby for her beloved king._

 

_His essence he sends, carried over in ships_

_To land on her shores upon his eternal kiss_

_Embrace my love, across ebb and flow_

_A fairer lady one will never know._

 

_With open arms she welcomes thee_

_Drink freely her beauty and serenity_

_Warmth, tranquillity are gifts she bestows_

_Upon those whose hearts, true love knows._

 

_And still she watches, across the sea_

_Observing his timeless nobility_

_Apart forever, she remains his queen_

_His love, his heart... his Auberdine_

 

**

The talks for a new headquarters had been going on in earnest during the night involving the guild leaders and their top advisors, administrators and trainers. Of the one time two hundred strong Crimson Blades guild, now less than half that remained due to the change of loyalties, factions and of course the routing of Sauren’s newbloods. Though some remained together, preferring to be neutral and loyal to friends and guild alike, the guild had suffered a massive blow.

It was therefore necessary for it to continue, discussions for its survival had taken place. Time was against them also, due to the fact the scourge were indeed sweeping through Lordaeron and the lands to the east and west were now being called the Eastern and Western Plaguelands. The need to establish a new base was paramount.

Although they looked tired, Brett and Belaen called all their guild members to a meeting in the deserted barn the following morning.

Camnath and Tiene stayed near the back of those gathered. Belaen signalled for all to be quiet, the hush spread and all that could be heard was the shuffling of feet on the straw covered ground. The imposing figure of Belaen Bloodbane drew himself up to his full six foot eight height. “The Crimson Blade headquarters as you know, has been compromised. Added to this, through the war, there has been a division of loyalties, and a decimation of numbers. Bret Hornsby and I, along with our advisors have discussed an amalgamation of guilds and feel it would be the best way forward. No doubt the ongoing divisions of races and factions will spread to our homeland of Kalimdor and our own numbers will deplete also. It is our intention to move all across the sea on the next ships. Are there any who oppose this amalgamation? If so, let us hear you now.”

Murmurings rippled through the crowd with some nodding in agreement. No-one objected. Belaen waited for what he deemed long enough before he continued. “Good! So, The Sigil of Shadow and The Crimson Blade will become either The Crimson Shadow or The Shadow Blade. The vote is open.”

Camnath folded his arms around Tiene and whispered, “Seems marriage of all kinds are in the air.”

She giggled.

“This deserves another announcement then,” he said as he kissed the top of her head. He waited until she nodded her approval then he stepped out and moved through the crowd to the front, her hand clutched in his. She followed through quite happily.

“Belaen!” he called as he neared the makeshift platform the guild leaders and their advisors stood upon.

“Are you objecting, Camnath?” his guild leader looked at him with astonishment as he saw him approaching.

The ebony haired elf smiled broadly. “No, I do not. I do however, have an announcement of my own, and I humbly request that it takes precedence once we reach Kalimdor.”

Tiene looked at Brett, a smile on her lips. He noted it and the way the two elves held hands. He smiled back, his eyes sparkling.

“Well that all depends, Camnath,” Belaen said, his eyebrows knitted.

“Hmm,” the ebony haired elf rubbed his chin. “I suggest we put it to a vote also then.”

Belaen glanced at Brett who was standing, arms crossed, grinning. The blood elf leader took a moment to assess the meaning behind his expression, then realised what was going on. He turned back to Camnath. “Very well, go ahead then.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the waiting crowd.

Camnath pulled Tiene close, wrapping his arms around her once more. “We’re getting married! Who is up a for a wedding celebration when we reach the shores of Auberdine?”

Something to celebrate was desperately needed in these dark days, and this met the approval of all in attendance. Without exception, the crowd cheered, yays resounding throughout the old barn.

Camnath turned back to his leader, beaming. “Guess that’s a yes,” he said.

Belaen jumped down from the platform and man-hugged the young elf. “Congratulations, Cam. I’m really happy for you, lad.  And...” he gently pushed the elf aside and scooped Tiene up. “...not that I reckon you need telling this, but you have got the best, in young Cam.”

“I know,” she said smiling up at the enormous guild leader. She looked across at Camnath who was being warmly congratulated by the assembled guild members. Lots of back slapping, ponytail tugging and some rather suggestive hand signals.

“Congratulations to you too, young lady.” Belaen hugged her.

As he stood aside, Brett came into view. She reckoned it was the most gentle she had ever seen his face. He was smiling, and looked like he was struggling to find something to say. He coughed, covering his mouth with his knuckles as he did so. He seemed almost shy.

Belaen watched, bemused by the other leader’s hesitancy. He slapped Brett’s back. “Come on man, hug the girl.”

Brett’s brow momentarily creased at Belaen’s action, but then his face broke into a smile again. “I feel like she’s a daughter to me, if you don’t mind,” he said in mock effrontery. Belaen nodded understanding. Brett took Tiene’s hands then pulled her into a big hug. “I’m real happy for you, lass. It’s no more than you deserve.”

She held onto him, knowing how much this meant to him too. He had looked out for her all these years, even when he felt helpless to prevent certain things. His friendship with her father had somehow imbued him with paternal qualities. He broke their contact, wiping a small tear from his eye before warmly shaking Camnath’s hand and patting his shoulder.

Four ships were sent for by Belaen. They were instructed to sail as near to the shoreline on the west from their current location. Using the recognised harbours and ports was unwise, potentially too many scourge or they were damaged beyond use anyhow. The waters were deep enough off the west coast for the ships to anchor close to the land. Small boats would be launched to load the Blades’ supplies and return to the ships. Then it would be all aboard and away to the motherland of the elven races – Kalimdor.

Tiene had asked Brett about her friends, Louvel, Fyn and Lexie. He told her they were safe, not far from where they currently were actually. She had explained what had happened to them to Camnath, and why she was insisting on seeing them. He tried to prepare himself for what he might see, fearful that the shock of seeing them up close might prove too unnerving. He would do his best not to show it. Brett sent an escort and within the hour, she saw the little priest, the noble rogue and her best friend walking into the farmstead.

Lexie had started wearing a mask which concealed the lower part of her face, with a mouth piece which allowed her to eat and drink, although she did not gain any sustenance from it. She kept her hands covered with studded gloves, and no part of her was left bare. If it weren’t for the sunken eyes and deathly palor, you could have been forgiven for thinking she was just another human being, perhaps a little malnourished but that was all. Of course, Tiene knew the truth. She tried not to think of her first days at Crimson Blade when the over-enthusiastic girl fawned over her family name. Then her confession as she sat on Tiene’s hospital bed. What Sauren had done to poor Lexie in the city seemed the most horrible of all somehow. Slitting her mouth open from ear to ear, symbolising her speaking out of turn, was nothing short of barbaric. Tiene then thought perhaps she should have actually sliced something else of  _his_  that would have symbolised his inappropriateness. She smirked, fleetingly.

Louvel, once dashing in his own way, still maintained an air of nobility as he strode towards the young elven couple, the elaborately decorated walking cane in his shredded hand. His other hand, while not quite as bad as the other had thumb hooked into the small slit on his waistcoat where his pocket watch resided. His head twitched however, and every now and again, he brought his hand up and hit the side of it. Tiene could not fathom this odd behaviour, but it was a frequent act as he closed the distance between them. Sadly, his features had deteriorated also, his monocle resting in his eyesocket bone, now rent of skin completely. To think this fine man had taught her the way of the Shado-pan monk giving her another advantage over Sauren. She recalled their picnics under the trees and their time meditating. Sad did not begin to describe how tragic it all was.

The little priest Fyn. How she adored him and recalled his comforting words years before in Ravensholdt Manor. The way he used to look up into her face, his little eyebrows riding up high on his brow, and his hands would knit together in a nervous manner. But he was so kind, so willing to help those less fortunate. Not that there were many less fortunate than himself now, bless. As he shambled nearer, she saw with growing sadness, that his body had deteriorated since she last saw him. His head was nearly without flesh and what there was had crusted over to look like dry, cracked plaster. Yet still, he smiled on seeing her. It brought a lump to her throat. She ran to greet him, Camnath holding back a little. When she reached Fyn, she ever so gently put her arms around him, fearful that she would break him. His chortle was a little throaty, but he was nonetheless very happy to see her.

It was painful for Tiene, remembering them all as they were, yet it was inescapable really.

Louvel raised what little eyebrow remained and his monocle fell out to swing on its cord over his chest. He carefully took Tiene’s hand, bent down and kissed it. “An honour, as always, Tiene.”

Then Lexie boldly hugged her, the leather armour preventing anything undead actually touching the elf and also ensuring no more of her decomposing body fell off from the contact.

Tiene turned and beckoned Camnath. He walked forward, his face bearing a concentrated effort of looking impassive. The three undead were not fooled however. Nor were they offended. They smiled, all in varying degrees of unsettling.

Tiene linked her arm with Camnath’s. “This is Fyn...” she said indicating the little figure in purple robes. “... an expert healer, priest, confidante and good friend.”

Camnath nodded welcome, managing a whispered hello. He carefully shook the little priest’s boney hand.

“Louvel, a fellow rogue, though a lone wolf, and expert in the ways of the Shado-pan monks. Also, a good friend.”

Again, Camanth nodded with respect and offered his hand. Louvel, popped his monocle back on then shook Camanath’s hand. “Pleasure,” the noble rogue said.

“And this is Lexie. Who bravely tried to warn me of things to come, and who deftly avoided Sauren’s henchmen then risked returning to me a year later to aid in over-throwing Sauren. She is my best friend.”

Camnath once more nodded and offered his hand. Lexie shook it. “If you weren’t so ugly I’d kiss you instead of shaking your hand,” she said to him, then cackled.

The comment, unexpected as it was, initially met a stony silence but then had everyone laughing, Camnath included. Tiene regained some composure and introduced him. “This is Camnath, everyone.”

“Ahh! The letter boy!” Lexie said, throwing her arms up, as if his identity should have been obvious. “You finally banging your true love, Tiene. That’s the best news yet!”

Camnath didn’t know where to look although it did amuse him. Fyn would have blushed if he had blood vessels and skin. Louvel tutted at the vulgarity. Tiene tried hard not to guffaw. “Actually,” she started with a huge smirk on her face. “I wondered if you were all up for a trip?”

“A trip?” Louvel’s monocle dangled again on its cord. “Where to, might I ask?”

“To Auberdine in Kalimdor,” Camnath answered. “You are all cordially invited to our wedding.”

“Wedding? Hell, he’s even making an honest woman of you, Tiene?” Though they could not see because of her mask, she was grinning with what little facial muscle she had remaining.

“No Lexie,  _she_  is making an honest man out of  _me_ ,” Camnath quipped back.

The undead girl cackled loudly. “I like this guy!” she screeched.

“Well, I am honoured indeed,” Louvel said, trying to to be heard over the grating masked woman. “But what shall I give you as a gift?”

“Oh, yes,” Fyn nodded in agreement. “A gift. What would you young people like?”

Tiene smiled. “You have already given gifts. You Lexie, the gift of friendship. Louvel, the gift of skills and the appreciation of fine wine. And Fyn, the gift of faith and the knowledge people’s love of each other is a power unto itself.”

Louvel smirked. He was genuinely touched by Tiene’s generosity of heart. He knew she was special from the first day they met.

“You are too kind Tiene,” Lexie said, suddenly removed from her raucous cackle and quips. “So, when we going?”

“Now, if that is agreeable.”

“Fine by me,” Lexie said, then she linked arms with Fyn and pointed toward the barn.

“Yes, that way,” Tiene answered.

As Lexie moved away, she shouted over her shoulder, “Name the first girl after me won’t you? Oh and a boy could be called Fyn.”

Louvel clucked his tongue. “As if you’re going to name a babe after a fish part!” He wandered off after his two friends. “Louvel however, is a fine name,” he said before moving out of earshot.

Tiene and Camnath watched them head in the direction of the barn, where Brett awaited their arrival. “I like them,” Camnath said. “I really do!”

“Yes, they are indeed fine people.” Her eyes welled but she forced the tears back. Linking arms with her betrothed, they started after their friends and to a new life in Kalimdor.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Tiene stood at the bow of the ship as it neared the Kalimdor harbour of Auberdine. She watched as another ship sailing for a destination she knew not, moved away from the far side pier. She ran to the starboard side as their ship came to dock. The members of the Sigil of Shadows all disembarked first and gathering dockhands started to unload supplies belonging to the Blades. Carts that they had instructed be present on their arrival were waiting for the task in hand. Belaen ushered the undead wedding guests and the Blades up towards the entrance of the harbour. They followed, taking in all their surroundings.

Camnath held Tiene’s hand as they walked up the pier towards the building at the top. She stopped to look at the horizon. The sun was setting and the deep oranges, golds and russets of the evening sky took her breath away. She could still see the ship that left the dock, a mere dot on the horizon now. She inhaled the evening air. The salty air mixed with sweet scent of mageroyal and peacebloom was warm and inviting.

He tugged her hand gently, and she skipped into step with him as he ran up the pier towards the others. He greeted the harbourmaster as they entered the building then dashed out again on the other side. He caught up with Lexie, Louvel, Fyn and Brett. As they moved forward, he pointed out the flight path to their right. Regal looking hippogryphs sat on large nesting boxes, their bright azure blue and maroon plumage shimmering in the setting sun. The giant birds watched the newcomers with quiet disregard, then shook their feathered heads with a loud screech.

“Seems you have competition for the most annoying laugh Lexie,” Louvel said with a smirk.

She hitched an eyebrow and smugly replied. “And you have competition for your plumage oh Great Fop of a rogue. At least their colours are bright.”

Louvel laughed, though his nostril flared at the insult to his precious coat. He smacked the side of his head again.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Tiene asked.

“It’s the bugs!” he replied, giving himself another smack. “Rattling about in my head, I hate them. They give me the creeps.”

Tiene had forgotten about his phobia. Poor Louvel, he was now destined to be plagued by them forever more.

They carried on over a bridge joining another part of the harbour to the mainland. As they reached the other side, the vista of beautiful Auberdine opened in front of them. Lights started bursting into life in all the little windows and soon the entire town was on full display. The buildings reached up and across the land, boasting a relatively large population although nothing compared to Capital City. Their design more earthen and raw than those compared to Quel’thalas, when it was once beautiful, had peaked roofs with decorative cornerstones and turrets which spoke of an ancient elven civilisation, steeped in history.

Here the Night Elves lived. They were considerably taller and bulkier than their counterpart Blood Elves, but they still possessed the signature attributes such as the long ears, eyebrows and glowing eyes. Their eyes however, shone silver, untainted by a dependency on arcane magic that had emanated from the now destroyed Sunwell. Their skin too was different, ranging in varying shades of purple, blue, green through to white. They bore markings on their faces, intricate designs some almost animal like.

“What do the markings on their faces mean?” Tiene asked Camnath.

He smiled. “They all have different meanings. They appear only on the women and it is a rite of passage, symbolising their journey into adulthood. As they reach adulthood, they can then choose which markings will represent them best as individuals, maybe even reflect their profession if they wish.”

“Men do not have these tattoos?”

“Not on their faces, no. They are mainly on their chest, shoulders and arms and do not have anything to do with a rite of passage.”

“So what would mine be, if I had them?” she asked him.

“Hmm,” he scatched his chin. “Possibly one of two. Shadow for one, represents stealth, silence, mystery and hidden potential,” he whispered the last attribute, and cupped her behind. She smirked and removed his hand before others saw. “Or, you could be Blades of course, meaning justice, focus, truth, courage.” He smiled down at her.

“Nothing for passion?” she whispered, a glint in her eyes.

He shook his head. “Sorry Tiene, they don’t do rabbits.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. He laughed, covering where she got him.

The townsfolk that were out of an evening watched as the large group of rogues and three scary looking individuals headed up towards the Sigil of Shadow headquarters. Behind them trundled the carts full of supplies belonging to the newcomers and hauled by volunteer Shadows and Blades alike through the town’s streets.

On top of the hill sat a building the size of a small fortress. Its stone walls kissed by the fading orange glow of the setting sun as a cloak of shadow began sliding down covering it serenely with the night’s embrace. Enormous wooden doors, two storeys high opened with a quiet whoosh, the hinges obviously well oiled.

Belaen waited for the main group to enter the courtyard then he turned and climbed up onto a podium in the centre. “This stronghold was far bigger than we truly needed, but as it turns out, it will be inhabited well from now on. There are ample rooms, although the trainees will share dormitories, as is standard. My staff will show all high ranking Blades to their rooms and also our guests…” he said picking out the three undead in front of the podium. “…who will also have their own rooms.”

Brett approached Tiene and Camnath. He looked weary, but very relieved. He put his hand on Tiene’s cheek, and smiled warmly at her. “Well, lass. What is your first impression.”

She wrapped her arm round Camnath’s waist and put her other hand over Brett’s. “I think you have made a very wise decision, Brett. This is amazing. I cannot wait to explore tomorrow. Did you manage to get my letter sent to Lor’themar about the wedding?”

“Yes, I did and he will have had it most of the day as I sent one of our mages directly to him. He will attend Tiene, even if it is only for the ceremony. We will portal him in and out. I appreciate he has enormous responsibility on his shoulders now.”

“Thank you Brett. I mean, Guild Master.”

He smiled and planted a small fatherly kiss on her brow. “I’m afraid after the wedding we will need to return to the Eastern Kingdoms and help with the ongoing battle against the scourge.”

“Yes, I know. But for now, I want to embrace this reprieve and tend to my husband to be.” She smiled up at Camnath, whose beautiful mouth split in a knowing smile.

Brett cleared his throat and withdrew his hand from Tiene’s face. “Yes, well then,” he seemed a little flustered. “Won’t keep you from…your erm… Yes. Right. Good night then.” He glanced a little coyly at the couple and then went to join Louvel and company.

Tiene and Camnath waved goodnight to them all before he led her up through the stairwell that took them to his room. He halted at the door, opened it then scooped her up in his arms.

“Hey! Not time for that yet,” she laughed.

“Practice makes perfect,” he replied, kicking the door open wide. As he crossed the threshold, he slammed the door closed with his foot, then set her down again.

The room was large, airy and tastefully furnished. A large table with four leather upholstered chairs sat off to the left of enormous double glass doors. An imposing four-poster bed graced the platform that sat in front of a large bay window on the opposite side of the room. Tiene turned and looked at Camnath slyly, eyebrow raised. He shrugged, then winked.

The fire at the back of the room crackled away, flames licking the logs in the grate. Obviously, Belaen had forwarded word that the rooms were to be made ready for their arrival. It was all perfect. Homely even. She turned to look out the double glass doors. Camnath crossed the room and opened them. They swung out onto a small balcony edged by an ornate iron railing. She looked out across the sea. The final rays of Belore slipped below the horizon, and Elune came into her own, casting diamonds over the Veiled Sea. Tranquility settled over Tiene for the first time in years. She felt it’s warm glow seep into her skin, along with the tender caress of Camanth’s arm around her waist and his lips ghosting the side of her neck. He swayed gently with her as the night breeze kissed their faces.

“Welcome to your new home, my love. For the time being anyway,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her lobe. She sighed deeply. Once more he scooped her up in his arms. Her lay her on the bed, watching her as they both cast off their clothing, launching the items across the room. She held up her arms, inviting his love.

The lullaby of Auberdine floated once more across the sea to her waiting lover, and Kalimdor slept peacefully under the watchful silver eye of Elune.


	39. Celebration

* * *

The next three days were spent partially organising where all the Crimson Blades’ supplies were to be stored. As Belaen had pointed out on their arrival, the stronghold was immense, far greater than the needs of The Sigil of Shadow had ever required. He was extremely pleased to see the place as it should be, plenty activity, and many senior rogues with a lifetime of experience behind them all encouraging the new generation of assassins, thieves and spies. Bodies milled about excitedly talking, helping each other sort all the things brought through the enormous gates.

He had a very good feeling about this amalgamation. The Crimson Blades had been the heirarchy of the rogue guilds for decades, and rightly so. They had been organised to the letter, they had been perfectionists, always striving for their students to be the top of their class. If you failed to meet the criteria after so many attempts, three was commonly the limit, you were out, whereas other guilds, The Sigil of Shadow, being one such guild, kept those individuals on and would nurture them on a one to one basis. Didn’t always work certainly, and more often than not, resulted in precious resources being wasted. Belaen was sure there could be some workable compromise to be made though and with Brett’s influence he could not see anything but good times ahead.

He watched the comings and goings of the rogues and staff as they busied themselves around the courtyard. Transporting armoury, weapons and varied items from one area to another, co-ordinating all the Blades supplies with their own so it became a unified collection.

Others focused on preparations for the forthcoming wedding. He smiled as young serving girls ran giggling with colourful garlands for decorating the main dining hall and adjoining rooms that would be required. It had been many years since such excitement had stirred them all. Butchers, bakers, wine merchants plus local produce, arrived with their fare while florists went about their displays and bouquets.

“They are all working hard,” Brett’s voice sounded from behind him. He turned as the human rogue approached and joined him at the railing of the walkway. The two of them, like old friends, mirrored each other by leaning their forearms on the railing and observing the industry below.

“Yes,” Belaen replied, a broad smile on his face. “Apart from you and your Blades joining us here, Brett, the wedding is proving a tonic for them all in these dark days.”

“Aye, something was needed to lift the gloom.”

Belaen laughed lightly, “Indeed.”

The two men’s attentions were taken by the sound of laughter from the direction of the dining hall. Tiene appeared with garlands around her neck, Camnath in close pursuit. He caught her, swirling her round and giving her a deep kiss before removing the garlands and handing them back to the maid who anxiously ran over to collect them. The young elves were laughing, though Camnath made a pretence of scolding Tiene for ruining the girl’s handiwork. The couple then moved off hand in hand towards the main entrance and out into Auberdine.

“They remind me of Yathas and Lina,” Brett said, a commemorative smile playing on his lips.

“Yes, they do. But, I think they have something even stronger than what her parents had.”

“I think you’re right. Although I doubted there could  _be_  anything stronger than Yathas and Lina. Those two were made for each other, even in the early years. I remember Sa’themar used to shake his head in frustration when Yathas disappeared on yet another flower hunt for Lina.”

Belaen smiled. “I remember the stories through thte network. He got punished for running off for a few days to search for some rare bloom in the mountains, didn’t he?”

Brett laughed out loud. “Aye. He had to clean out the stables for a week on his own, and the latrines.”

“Did he find the bloom though?” Belaen smiled.

“He did! But by the time he got back to headquarters it had wilted so badly, he had to throw it away. Even Lina gave him a slap.” The two of them laughed all the more.

“It’s butterflies, Camnath hunts for Tiene,” Belaen said.

Brett smiled. “I saw him give them to her once. At the Gathering.”

Belaen looked at him. He recalled the pain on Camnath’s face that night only too well. “Obviously he never attended the bi-annual Gatherings after  _that_  year. But, every year without fail, he would return home to Quel’thalas and find more. He kept them in jars in his room, until the inevitable of course, and he had to dispose of them. I never quite understood why he did this, when he couldn’t give them to her.”

“Did you ask him?”

“I did. He said it was like putting a candle in the window for lost souls to find their way home. He believed it kept the bond between him and Tiene strong. Even though he knew Sauren and her...” Belaen’s voice faltered.

Brett sighed heavily. “We all know what went on behind those closed doors Belaen. But, she never forgot Camnath. I used to often find her curled up in the corner of the library with his letters gripped tightly in her hands. I could see in her eyes where her heart lay. She quite often fell asleep like that when Sauren was away on his ‘business’ trips. I’d carry her up to her room and put her letters back in her drawer. When no more letters came, she still carried out her little ritual with those she’d kept from old, although by then, they remained tied in ribbons and she only held them, never read them again. I guess it was too painful for her.”

Belaen smiled wistfully. “My wife would never be so sentimental, she would have used them for kindling.” He looked over at Brett, whose face broke into a big smile.

“Mine’s would have probably done the same.”

The two men looked at each other, laughing lightly. “We are growing soft in our old age Brett,” Belaen grinned.

“I dare say we are.”

Then, suddenly, they turned their eyes to the stronghold’s entrance and lost themselves in their own thoughts.

It was strange talking about such things, thought Belaen. He had never been one to easily discuss sentimentality, but he’d found it rather comforting. Inwardly, he was happier than he could openly admit, that the young couple had found their way back to each other. After all that had passed. It signified hope. Hope for all elven and man kind alike.

The next day would be the wedding. It was a day everyone was looking forward to, something beautiful amid the horror and sadness of recent times. Preparations went on well into the night.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Next morning, Tiene woke early to the sound of birdsong. She lay for a while, eyes closed, arm across Camnath’s chest, her fingers lacing his hair as she listened to the sweet chirruping. Her head bobbed lightly as Camnath’s chest rose and fell with his soft breathing. She smiled. There was something so utterly perfect in her life now. A love so deep, so pure and complete, she felt as though her heart would burst from its intensity. How could something so beautiful cause you such pain, she wondered. Such blissful, exquisite agony. She sighed.

Camnath moaned lightly, shifting ever so slightly in his slumber. Instinctively, she nuzzled in closer, inhaling his scent, his very essence. For all it was her wedding day, she did not want to have to rise and leave this sanctuary, being next to him, his skin soft and warm. She tilted her head and looked upon his gentle face. He was dreaming. His nose twitched, his eyes danced behind his lids. The corners of his mouth curved in a contented smile. How she wished she could capture this moment, freeze it in time.

One eye opened, just a smidge, and he looked at her, a smirk tracing his lips. “You are watching me again,” he said softly.

“I am, yes.” She raised herself a little further over his chest. Resting her chin on her forearm she continued staring at him.

His hand came up and he lightly tapped her nose. She twitched it in response.

“Second thoughts? Regrets?” he asked.

Her smile wavered. “No second thoughts no, but a lifetime of regrets, yes.”

He wrapped her in his embrace and kissed her brow. “The way I see it Tiene, if it were not for our pasts, we would not have our present. We would not be here... like this.” His beautiful mouth smiled so endearingly.

“I just wish all those years could have been spent with  _you_ ,” she said.

“We will have years still, and all the more precious, Tiene.” He stroked her cheek and twirled her hair round his forefinger. She nuzzled his hand.

“I must show you something...” she moved to the side of the bed and pulled a bag with some of her belongings out from under it. She turned round and propped herself up on a pillow. Camnath lay on his side, resting his head on his palm waiting to see what she wanted to show him.

From the bag, she pulled out an three wads of letters, one of which was considerably larger than the the other two.

He grinned, “You kept them all?”

“Of course I did. They gave me hope. But this is the one I wanted to show you.” She opened the ribbon that bound the larger bundle. These were letters from her brothers. She dug to the bottom of the wad and took a letter from it’s envelope. She very carefully unfolded it then handed it to Camnath. He held it gently so as not to rip it, and read its content –

 

_Baby sis_

_Trust this finds you in good mood and already leading the Crimson Blade._

_I think you will be receiving a letter from lover boy soon too. He came over when we got home to check you had arrived safely. He really is smitten with you, Tiene. Just so you know, I approve. You have my permission to marry him and have lots of babies._

_Nothing to report, just wanted to wish you well and say we all love you and you make us so proud._

_Inaris (whistles your favourite tune)_

 

Camnath smiled and laughed lightly. “So, Inaris thought me worthy of you.” He looked up at her. “That means a lot to me, Tiene.” He reached up and kissed her softly then handed the letter back.

She looked at it again, her lips quivering slightly. Her fingers traced Inaris’ name. “How I wish they were all here this day,” she breathed.

“They are. In here...” he touched her forehead, “...and here,” then he covered her heart. “Always here.”

She put the letters to one side and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you so much Camnath, it hurts. Never leave me. Please! Never leave...”

He pulled her down beside him. “I won’t, my sweet lady. We are one, always will be.” He drew her closer, soft kisses on her cheeks and throat. “But this is to be joyous day, so...” his limbs entwined with hers. “This is your last chance to be with a single man,” he said, a mischievious grin playing on his beautiful mouth.

He always managed to pull her out of the depths. He was her raft, her light. She sighed as he continued planting little kisses around her neck and nuzzling her earlobes.

A loud hammering at the door startled the couple and a raucous group of his guild mates burst in, followed by Lexie and some maids. Before the couple knew what was happening the Shadows had grabbed Camnath and dragged him out of the bed. The maids tittered behind Lexie while pulling the sheet around Tiene to keep her decent in front of the menfolk.

“Put that dagger away, Cam! Plenty time for that tonight!” one of the Shadows shouted causing the others to burst out laughing. The maids blushed furiously.

Lexie’s eyes bulged as his modesty was compromised and she quickly threw him a pillow to cover himself as she tried desperately to look anywhere but the obvious. He managed an embarrassed nod of gratitude before he was hauled out of the room. The rowdy bunch could be heard running along the corridor, still spouting lewd comments to their embarrassed guild mate.

Once the men were out of earshot, the maids clapped their hands and some male servants entered with huge buckets and pans of hot water. They sluiced the water into the tub near the rear of the room and one maid poured in scented oils and sprinkled flower petals on the water’s surface.

Lexie cackled. “Poor Camnath will need a cold bath to dampen his ardour.” She cackled again.

“Lexie!” Tiene pretended to scold.

The undead woman slumped onto the bed. “Hell I miss it, you know,” she said.

“What?” Tiene asked.

“Sex!”

A sharp intake of breath came from some of the maids as they busied themselves getting Tiene’s wedding gown laid out and the flowers and ribbons for her hair. Lexie chuckled at the reaction.

It was something Tiene had never given any thought to, where the undead were concerned. Now that Lexie mentioned it though, it did pose a few quandries.

“And here I am,” Lexie continued, not caring about the maids in the slightest. “Stuck with two undead men. One who is still very faithful to his living and breathing wife, though he will never see her again because he is too ashamed of what he has become, and another, who is married to the bloody Light!”

Tiene felt unbearably sorry for Lexie. For all she tried to laugh things off, it was really just a ruse to disguise her loneliness. The cruelty of her demise was suddenly even more profound.

The undead looked at the bride to be. With the loudest cackle Tiene had heard to date, Lexie drew from her unrelenting humour yet again. “I get to eat everything I kill though,” she said. One maid was heard retching in the background and was quickly shown outside. “And I mean -  _everything_!” Lexie cackled again, nudging Tiene. The Blood elf smirked.

An hour later and Tiene was bathed, her hair was dressed with flowers and ribbons woven through her golden mane and her pastel blue and lilac gown was just being tied at the back. She glanced over at her friend who still lounged on the bed, clad in her leather armour from her head to her toes. “What about you Lexie? Wouldn’t you like to be in a dress? We could have one with long sleeves and high neck if you wish.” Tiene asked.

Her undead friend looked at her for a moment. She knew Tiene meant well, but considering her appearance out of the garb she presently wore, it was a grisly thought. “I wear what I do Tiene, to keep me together. If I wore a dress you would have body parts down the aisle instead of flower petals.” Lexie chuckled to herself.

Tiene simply smiled wanly. She had just donned her soft slippers when a knock came to the door.

A maid ran to answer it. Opening the door just a small crack to see who it was and ensure it wasn’t the groom trying to be sneaky. Quiet voices came from outside the door. The maid curtseyed and then opened the door wide.

Tiene’s face broke into a huge smile. “Lor’themar!” She ran to him. He caught her as she threw her arms around his neck. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.”

He glanced down at her. “Now Tiene, what kind of brother would I be, if I did not attend your wedding, and give you away?”

“Brother?” Lexie asked from across the room.

Lor’themar looked round at the figure rising from the bed and moving towards them. If he was shocked or repulsed by the undead girl he did not show it. Instead he nodded in greeting.

“Yes,” Tiene replied. “He is. This is Lexie, my dear, best friend,” she said introducing the undead to Lor’themar. “And this is ...”

“Regent Lord of Quel’thalas,” interjected the maid who had admitted him in the room, as if making the undead woman aware she was practically in the presence of royalty.

Lor’themar smiled a little uneasily at the maid’s introduction. “It is merely a title, nothing more.” He bowed to Lexie. She made a strange sound in response, one Tiene had not heard before.

“He is very modest, too,” Tiene announced.

“I regret,” he said, “I can not stay to the end of the evening, but I will be here most of the day, Tiene.”

“I’m just so happy you came. I thought stately duties...”

Lor’themar shook his head. “I would not miss this. Camnath’s family are here too.”

Tiene blanched. She had only met them very briefly years ago when she and Camnath were going to their training in the Students of Shadow, but she had never really had a chance to get to know them. Lor’themar smiled, he could see what was worrying her. “Believe me, Tiene, according to Faealle, Camnath never stopped talking about you...ever. So they feel they know you very well. And Faealle is excited to be getting a sister.”

She felt better on hearing Lor’themar’s reassuring words.

 

* * *

* * *

 

You would never have known the courtyard had been a training ground for assassins. It had been completely transformed. The had been filled with tables and chairs for the wedding guests to relax, later in the evening. Each table had been beautifully dressed and large ornate braziers were placed around the perimeter. Garlands were also spun around the arches and doorways to the various rooms within the stronghold. The main halls would be host to the wedding feast and had equally been elaborately decorated with the garlands, ribbons & braziers.

A large number of people stood outside the chapel within the Shadow’s grounds, waiting for the bride. The main party being inside and as many of the Blades and Shadows as could squeeze in to see the two elves make their vows.

At the alter Camnath stood waiting, hands clasped in front of him. He was dashing in his deep blue jacket, silver waistcoat and cream britches. Belaen had been talking to him quietly as Lor’themar and Tiene entered, but stopped immediately on seeing the bride. He gave Camanath a small nudge to announce she had arrived.

As the groom turned to look, Tiene thought her heart was going to burst. Finally after years of being apart, they had found their way back to each other and were going to make the most sacred of vows together. She could see the very same thoughts had crossed his mind at that moment too. In that instant, all they could see was each other, everything else was just a haze.

As she stepped up beside him, Lor’themar moved aside, taking his place in the front row with Brett, Lexie, Louvel and Fyn. The Sunspear family sat behind Camnath, Faealle clapping her hands quietly as her brother stepped closer to his bride. His parents raised eyebrows at Faealle as if in reprimand, but she just grinned and continued beaming towards the altar.

Camnath took a few moments just to look at Tiene. Her eyes were the brightest he had ever seen, her skin as pure as the driven snow in Winterspring, framed in the golden silk that was her hair. He mouthed I love you, watching her cherry lips as they responded with the same sentiment for him. He lifted his hand, raising hers lightly with it, in front of the Magister who stood before them. The Magister draped a garland woven from mageroyal and mountain sage over their heads and around their shoulders.

All was quiet, only the sound of birdsong from outside permeated the air. Then the Magister spoke, his voice rich, deep and gentle. “We have travelled far and wide to be here this day, to bear witness to the union of Camnath Sunspear and Tiene Firefury. Today, they will embark on the sacred road of matrimony, where two souls come together with the blessing of all that is pure and true, and travel a path that will continue forever more.

“It is not a journey to be undertaken lightly, but one where both hearts are committed wholly to each other, forsaking all others and beat as one.

“Before they speak their vows, should anyone have reason to forfeit this union, then speak now...”

Camnath and Tiene held each others gaze, both fearful yet also quietly confident that no-one would raise a voice against them. A few moments passed.

“And so it falls to me to join this couple in wedded bliss...” the Magister continued. The couple smiled at each other and there was indeed a little relief in their eyes.

“Camnath, Tiene, share with us the vows you have chosen, and bind your love with the tokens of eternity.”

Belaen and Lor’themar stepped forward once more, passing the rings to the Magister who kept them in a flat palm before the couple. A shimmering mist enveloped his hand, soft wisps of gold and silver emanating from it’s centre. The rings levitated and hovered just above his hand. His green eyes flashed and he nodded to the couple.

In unison Camnath and Tiene spoke their hearts:

_“Through light and shadow_

_I will walk with thee_

_Bound in love, eternally_

 

_My body, soul and beating heart_

_In your hands I place_

_Until we are taken from life’s embrace_

 

_From Death’s cold chrysalis_

_We will be reborn_

_And our love eternal will carry on”_

 

Rings in place, as their last words were uttered, so the garland around their shoulders burst into life. Tiny satin wings rose, encircling them before rising to the rafters where they vanished, replaced by tiny wisps that floated down again showering them in silver light before weaving out amongst the guests.

Tiene stared in wonder, then looked at Camnath. His smile told her he had arranged for that little bit of magic to take place.

“You are now husband and wife. You may ki...” but before the Magister could finish the words, Tiene had her arms around Camnath and was kissing him deeply. His arms wrapped round her, his response as passionate.

Laughter rising at Tiene’s enthusiasm, the guests applauded and cheered the young couple.

The wedding feast was bountiful and all had their fill. Tiene also had the opportunity to get to know Soaris, Velleane and Faealle better. Their closeness indeed reminded her of her own family. It was a little bittersweet, but she embraced them wholeheartedly. She was really moved by how happy Faealle was about her brother finally marrying his “lady love” as she called Tiene. She told her how he used to follow her around, talking constantly about Tiene this and Tiene that. Camnath smiled fondly as he recalled those days.

They circulated, ensuring everyone had plenty food and wine and that they were all enjoying themselves. Weddings were always happy events, but this one also seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. It was a little light in the dark.

They sat with Louvel and Fyn for quite some time. Louvel as always had a passion for the wine. He admitted it did not taste of anything now, but he still enjoyed it. The hangovers were a lot less severe these days. He seemed to have taken to Camnath easily enough too. Tiene and Louvel related the stories of training and meditating and the times he used to make her think she had seriously hurt him, and that  _one_  instance she believed she’d killed him.

Fyn had been going round collecting some of the floral displays. When Tiene quietly asked him why he wanted so many, he seemed a little embarrassed. She reassured him he was doing no wrong, she was merely curious. He very coyly admitted it was make himself smell a little nicer. Being an undead had it’s serious disadvantages, one of those being a rather unpleasant smell. Although they weren’t exactly rancid, Tiene had noticed a certain aroma while in their company certainly. The fact little Fyn tried to mask it was really rather sweet, although also very sad. It would a great day indeed if someone were to able to reverse the curse of the undead and bring her friends back as they once were. But they all knew that would never be the case, and so they all smiled and remained close friends no matter what.

Lexie it seemed, had developed a little crush on Lor’themar. He was always the gentleman however, never blunt nor rude, but made sure there was always others in close vicinity. Tiene couldn’t help but smirk a little at the irony of the scenario. She truly felt for Lexie. Knowing what she did of Lexie’s past and seeing the unforgivable cruelty dealt her by the very one who had taken his pleasure of her, truly upset Tiene. She tried to shirk the thoughts from her mind. It was equally unforgivable to think about that monster in any way shape or form on this day.

Brett was thoroughly enjoying the celebrations. Tiene could not remember ever seeing him so relaxed, really being himself. When his eyes met Tiene’s, they instantly warmed and he nodded to her both in respect and a fatherly way. He clashed goblets with Belaen and they both drank and ate their fill. She hoped it felt like the olden days for him, a time she knew had been happier for him. As he clashed another goblet, she was fairly sure that was the case.

As the day drew into evening, Lor’themar had to leave. Tiene held her brother for a long time. He was all she had left of her old life in Silvermoon and although she was blissfully happy on this day, seeing him leave was interminably sad. She begged him to indulge Lexie with just a little chivalry and asked him to kiss her hand. He obliged and Lexie was overjoyed.

Dancing ensued with Camnath and Tiene taking the centre stage first. They received a mass of applause as they circled around the hall. They wanted everyone up and dancing and so split to go select new partners, then encouraged them to do the same until the floor was full. A lot of whooping and hollering came from some of the guests as they readily engaged in reeling each other around the hall.

Capturing a quiet moment together, Camnath and Tiene watched the dancing from one of the arches. They stood, Camnath behind his bride, arms around her slender frame and she with hers folded over his. She rested her head back onto his chest. “Are you happy, wife,” he said with a broad smile.

“Yes husband, I am,” she laughed lightly, pulling his arms tighter around her. “Blissfully so.”

“We have two days before we head back to the Eastern Kingdoms,” he said.

“I know. I want this to last forever though,” she replied.

He turned her around to face him. “When we beat the scourge, Tiene, I will buy us a beautiful home where we can start a family and we will have days like this  _every_  day.”

A familiar fluttering rose in her belly. Her fingers traced his mouth. Perhaps he had been right. Without their pasts, now would not exist. As his mouth met hers she finally understood...

Time to embrace what lay ahead.

Time to let regrets go.

Time to start anew.

Time to love,

To live.

Time...


	40. Of Feys And Foes

* * *

Over the following weeks, the network was picking up all manner of stories regarding Kael’thas Sunstrider. The Prince of Quel’thalas had ran up against an extremely bigoted Grand Marshal Garithos. This was a man not to be trifled with, his loathing of any race other than his own was strong but he had a particular dislike for elves, and that put Kael’thas top of his list.

On seeing a naga fleeing from the scene of the arcane observatories which the Grand Marshal had ordered Kael’thas and his people to repair, the elven Prince was warned that Garithos would not tolerate any dealings with the naga. Kael’thas had tried to defend them, his reasoning steeped in the ancestry of the Highborne, and stated that they were only trying to help. This fell on deaf ears, and the Grand Marshal devised a way to teach the prince a lesson. When news arrived of a pending attack by a large group of undead approaching the observatories, he ordered Kael’thas to defeat them, but not before he had withdrawn all possible support and soldiers sending them to the front lines. The destruction of the Sunwell had made the elves weak. With only his elves at his side, Garithos smugly thought Kael’thas would soon be another elf scored off his hit list.

He could not have been more mistaken however. The naga rallied and came to Kael’thas’ side offering support. The prince knew he needed extra arms to defeat the undead and accepted the offer. Unfortunately, Garithos and his army witnessed the naga fleeing once more as they approached.

The Grand Marshal may not have achieved the death of the last elven royal in the battlefield as hoped, but he did the next best thing. Kael’thas and his people were incarcerated in Dalaran’s dungeons for treason. Death was, after all, inevitable.

A communique from Lor’themar later updated the rogues. Kael’thas had escaped, with the help of the naga yet again and they had made their way through a portal to Outland. The Prince was safe. It was a timely rescue as well, for the Lich Kel’thuzad had created that portal and thus the eredar Archimonde had found his way to Azeroth.

Dalaran was in ruins! The servant of the Burning Legion had attempted to annihilate the magical city, just as Arthas, the scourge and Dar’Khan had done to Quel’thalas. But the Man’ari eredar did not stop there, he made his way to Nordrassil in Mount Hyjal.

Thil’las, being Night Elf knew much about the history of his people and he along with fellow Night Elves in the two guilds, informed the rogues of the significance of recent events, how they tied into elven history and were shaping their future now.

Archimonde was enraged that the druid called Malfurion, the twin of the notorious Illidan, no less, had thwarted the Burning Legion’s attempt at world domination in the War of the Ancients. This angered the great eredar and he lay, waiting for 10,000 years to wreak his revenge.

The Elves knew why Archimonde would have destroyed Dalaran - because the sorcerors and mages there used phenomenal amounts of arcane power, heavily imbued by the leylines under the city, which was the element that attracted the Burning Legion in the first place. The Legion and eredar deemed it  _their_ power, not that of mere mortals. Archimonde’s pilgrimage to Mount Hyjal would be for similar reasons, of that the Night Elves also had no doubt.

The World Tree which sat atop Mount Hyjal, grew over a lake. This lake harboured a source of arcane power which had been placed there from vials taken from the Well of Eternity during its destruction. It had been Illidan who had fed the lake with the Well’s essence. It was then that  _his_  reputation took a downward spiral, and in due course, he became the thing which the Night Elves now called, Betrayer.

The World Tree however, was an attempt to safeguard the Well’s essence from the Legion’s radar. But even that had had a cost attached. Through its protection of the magical source, the Night Elves lost the one thing that set them apart from all others. Their immortality. Such sacrifice was necessary for it had been long feared that Illidan’s foolishness would again attract the Burning Legion to Azeroth.

Once more however, Malfurion proved to be Azeroth’s saviour. Combined efforts with the orcs and their leader, Thrall, Malfurion and the druids called upon Azeroth herself to aid in the destruction of Archimonde and preserve the World Tree. Nature’s gifts came into their own and an enormous swarm of elven wisps attacked the now colossal eredar as he scaled the World Tree. The very source of power which Archimonde sought was the very thing that would spell his demise. Again, he had grossly underestimated the power of mortals and the magic of Azeroth. He was snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

And so, here they all were, now. From the scourge, to Kel’thuzad, to the Lich King Ner’zhul, to Arthas his servant, to Dar’khan Drathir, to the great eredar Archimonde, they were all linked or influenced by the Burning Legion. This war was not going to end, it may experience many lulls, ebbs and flows, but until the Burning Legion was thwarted for good, the killing would never stop.

A leader was needed to march against the Burning Legion. But no such leader was on the horizon. Only those such as the rogues and all other mortal classes were what stood between salvation or annihilation. Archimonde’s defeat did not spell the end of the Burning Legion, it was merely a setback.

 

* * *

* * *

 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to find places where all the rogues could shelter during their on-going campaign against the Legion’s minions in Lordaeron. Many townships were now overrun by the scourge, or the division between loyalties made people wary of allowing a mixture of races within their boundaries. Word was that there was a huge split between Alliance and the now named, New Horde. Few groups were remaining neutral. The rogues had little option but to find deserted buildings or make camp in secluded areas.

They had reached the far west of Deathknell in Tirisfal Glades. Having staked the area out with a view to camping for a few nights at least, they decided it was as good a place as any. The area opened into a tranquil forest, the rays of the sun filtering through the canopy high above. The smell of ferns and peacebloom and birdsong along with insects chirruping permeated the air. It was hard to believe that there was bloodshed and mayhem to the east and north of such a beautiful location.

Camnath and Tiene walked hand in hand into the forest. The tranquility was like a drug. She walked a little ahead, raising her face to the rays that shimmered through the branches. Her hair being gently tugged made her turn round. Camnath stood smiling and she melted into his embrace. He kissed her deeply pulling her with him as he backed up against a giant silver pine. His tongue danced with hers and his fingers started untying her britches. She pulled back a little and glanced around the tree.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “we are alone, I’ve been checking for the past few minutes.” He loosened the last tie. She kicked off her boots and shed her britches as he removed his. He sat, back against the pine as she straddled him.

Slowly, they loved each other. His mouth brushing softly against her throat as she rose and fell, soft sighs rolling from her lips. Her back arched, his hand sliding under her top to cup her breast. He popped the little studs on the front of her jerkin, revealing her soft flesh and leaned in to kiss her pert buds, his arm supporting her she leaned further back.

Feathered flower seeds swirled up in a small breeze and danced round the couple as their climax neared. Tiene’s eyes were aflame. She looked at her ebony haired husband. He was beautiful, gentle and overflowing with love for her. His kisses continued, his hands guiding her hips as she reached her peak, taking him with her.

He clung to her as his release caused him to shudder, his sigh ghosting on her skin. “I love you, Tiene,” he whispered, as he always did when he made love to her.

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his. “And I you, with all my heart, Camnath,” she replied. They remained like that, holding each other in the afternoon rays, losing themselves in the serenity of the woodland.

“Tiene! Camnath! Where are you?” Lexie’s voice sounded through the trees nearby. The couple scrambled up to get dressed again, laughing quietly as they did, mismatching ties and poppers in their panic to be decent before Lexie arrived. The last popper fastened and they were both bolt upright waiting to greet her as she came round the side of the tree.

They both had rather sheepish grins, and as her eyes glanced at the patch of flattened grass in front of the tree, she put two and two together. “Uh huh!” she said, head tilted, looking at the two of them like a reprimanding school teacher. “You’ll wear it out you know,” she smirked. “All that friction, it’s not good for you.” She cackled loudly as she turned to go back the way she came. “Follow me. If you can walk that is,” she beckoned them with her hand.

Tiene and Camnath smirked. “Where you taking us?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise. It was Louvel that told me about it and he thought you two might like to see it.”

Lexie was not for giving away any clues, she just kept walking deeper into the woods.

Eventually, they caught sight of Louvel and Fyn and they were standing in front of what looked like a faerie ring. Mushrooms, some of which you could stand on grew in a perfect circle. Louvel ushered the couple over while shushing them at the same time.

“What’s going on?” Camnath quietly asked the noble rogue.

“A splendid phenomenon. A little magic for you to witness, but you must remain quiet.”

Camnath wrapped his arms around Tiene as she stood in front of him, and together the group watched and waited for something to happen at the faerie ring.

Moments later a small fey drunk darter appeared at the edge of the tree line. It was about the size of large bird but brightly coloured and it’s wings were more like gossamer, almost like a butterfly’s, rather than feathers. It’s body, reptilian in shape and texture, with a long curling tail. It was quite a delightful looking little creature. Then another appeared, and another. The spectators watched in awe as four more joined them. The little feys floated about for a few moments then each settled next to one of the larger mushrooms.

Camnath and Tiene’s eyes scanned the area as saw some injured animals approaching too. Uncertain whether they were a threat, they remained stock still. They were taken by surprise yet again as the sound of soft music rose. From the little creatures, streams of golden light danced towards the centre of the faerie circle and the music intensified. The injured animals stopped and simply watched the display as well.

“What are they doing?” Tiene asked Louvel, her face lit as brightly as the little creatures’ golden lights.

“No-one really knows,” he answered, as he continued to watch. “There is speculation that they are protecting an entrance to perhaps a tomb, but who knows? No doubt someone will find out one day. I simply thought it’s rather beautiful and you two might like it.”

Camnath squeezed Tiene a little. She glanced up and saw his face, full of wonder and appreciation of being shown something so utterly beautiful. She snuggled into his embrace and they all continued to watch and listen as the little feys music resounded through the trees.

When the music ended, the feys simply disappeared, faded into nothing and all that was left was the ring of mushrooms.

Back at camp, they spoke about the little magical display they had witnessed. Some of the company just shook their heads and grinned, as if the couple were still punch-drunk from their wedding weeks before. It mattered not, Camnath and Tiene, along with Louvel, Lexie and Fyn all witnessed it and it was something the five of them would treasure.

As the early evening gave way to night, the company of rogues checked the perimeters around the tree lines where they had set barriers to warn them should any invasion be coming their way. They had worked hard during the day cutting the trees they needed to make long spikes which they bound together with vines and mud then secured around sections of the forest perimeter. Camnath and Tiene helped with securing some in place and packing them tightly. They headed back to camp, where they lay side by side under a makeshift shelter, and slept while those on watch kept the rest safe.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

This was how they spent the next three days. Following reports of scourge sightings in the vicinity, cleansing the areas of the foul abominations as best they could. The rogues worked in groups, dispatching the shambling, skeletal and ghoul-like creatures. Louvel also joined in the killing as did Lexie. They had a distinct advantage in that the scourge were thrown into confusion by the two undead rogues. They would mimic their prey before dealing the fatal blows. They were a good team, but Louvel still insisted he would go back working alone once this area was cleansed.

Camnath and Tiene worked as one team with Thil’las and Brett close by. It was safer for those who were not of the undead persuasion to work closer in fours. The scourge had a habit of raking and shredding their victims and two rogues on their own could easily fall victim to the flailing clawed limbs. It was not possible to escape every injury, but much easier to avoid a full onslaught of scourge fury, if you attacked in a closely knit unit.

Just as they had in Deatholme, the husband and wife team were synchronised, completely in tune with each other’s movements. Camnath slid to the hamstrings, Tiene severed the jugulars.

Sounds of steel on bone or the squelch of soft innards spilling on the ground were common place along with screeches, loud moaning and groaning of the foul creatures as they were delivered to the Twisting Nether.

Each day had been tiring, bloody and unfulfilling as there seemed to be an never-ending stream of the things wandering about causing havoc and devastation. Tempers were beginning to fray between the two leaders.

On the third night things became heated between Belaen and Brett. The Blood Elf guild leader wanted to stage an attack to the north of the forest perimeter ensuring the scourge remained on the side of Capital City. Brett disagreed saying the scourge were moving south via the eastern plaguelands and it was prudent to move there. Lordaeron had been practically sacked by them already, they would move on.

Furthermore, there was rumour that Sylvannas had broken free of Arthas influence and was now leader of the Forsaken. Arthas’ mistake had been his arrogance. Having personally raised her as a banshee he had inadvertantly imbued her with powers which far surpassed those of other undead, thus making her strong enough to find a way to shed his hold over her. That, plus the fact the Lich King Ner’zhul was himself losing power, made killing Arthas a greater possiblity. Her attempt at entrapment however had failed as Kel’thuzad intervened, rescuing the death knight from Sylvannas and her banshees. Both the risen Lich and Arthas then fled to Northrend.

The Forsaken obeyed Sylvannas, now known as the Dark Lady, and were now in residence in Capital City, making use of the sewers and underground caverns. If their numbers were added to the scourge left roaming around the northern perimeter, Belaen’s group would be slaughtered within minutes.

The conversation had ended in stalemate, both guild leaders fuming at each other. The amalgamation seemed at risk of fracturing altogether. Both leaders called upon their groups to discuss their next plan of attack. The two leaders were no longer on speaking terms.

Camnath and Tiene had no option but to join their own leaders and listen to their strategies. The couple kissed each other deeply. “Please stay safe,” Tiene cupped his face, imploring him to practice on the side of caution.

“I will. And you be careful too, my love.” They kissed again. “It will be alright, they will work it out and see sense.”

“I hope so,” she said.

In the middle of the night Tiene was woken by a screeching Lexie. Panic gripped her as she saw Camnath was not at her side anymore. He had bedded down with her earlier. Lexie continued screeching.

Tiene jumped up and saw that all the Blades were gathering round the undead woman. Louvel and Fyn also came to see what was going on.

Brett grabbed Lexie by her upper arms, trying not to squeeze too hard in case of permanent damage to her. “Lexie! What is it?”

“They are all gone!” She was panting, struggling to breathe. “All at the north...”

Tiene looked around and ran to the far side of the camp. No! “The Shadows!” she wailed running back to Brett and her guild. “That’s who she means. They are  _all_  gone!”

In the distance, they heard a shout. “Shindu fallah na!”*

” _No!_ " Tiene screamed.

The Blades all gathered their weapons and forged ahead to the north perimeter. The sounds of battle getting louder as they approached the barrier.

Tiene ran as fast as she could, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Her heart was pounding. The clash of steel and the dying sounds reaching her ears were more of the living than they were of the undead.

_Please, do not let us be too late!_   _Please, do not let us be too late!_

Camnath!

* * *

 

*Shindu fallah na! - They’re breaking through!


	41. Chrysalis

* * *

No sign of any surviving scourge, only dead ones.

Brett and a small band of his rogues were standing around a fallen tree. The burly guild leader looked up as he heard someone approaching. His mouth opened slightly as he saw Tiene and the anxious look on her face. His chest was heaving. He clapped a hand over his mouth and looked away.

For all she was still some distance away and it was dark and gloomy, she could tell his eyes held a terrible grief. She tripped, nearly losing her footing and on glancing down saw the broken body of Belaen Bloodbane, Camnath’s guild master. His body looked like it had been flayed, skin lying in shreds and innards splashed over the grass. But there was no mistaking the clean cut of steel which had separated his head from his body. The wide eyes stared up at her, terror still held within. As her focus travelled over ground in close proximity, she saw a number of Sigil of Shadow guild members in the same state. But where was Camnath?

She looked back at Brett. He was staring at the fallen tree, then he sensed her stare. Turning to face her once more, she now understood the look of grief in his eyes. Her world suddenly imploded. It took all the strength she had to keep walking towards the Blades.

Movement caught her eye. Camnath’s ponytail bobbed above the fallen tree. Relief washed over her. With Fyn, Lexie and Louvel a little distance behind, she quickened her pace across the blood drenched grass, jumping over scattered corpses until she neared him. “Camnath!” she called, her heart beating wildly.

The ponytail disappeared. “Camnath!” she tried again. Why was he not answering her?

She reached the tree. Brett kept his head low, but afforded her a sideways glance. “I’m so sorry, lass. We tried to reach him in time...” The guild squad stepped back, but maintained silent vigil.

Fearing the sight that would meet her eyes, she slowly turned to face the figure they had all been shielding from her. He sat with his back to her, his head bowed. She noticed his shoulders moving. He was alive! She fell to her knees next to him. It was obvious he was wounded, but as long as he breathed there was hope. “You are hurt. Let me help you, my love,” she said. “And Fyn will be here in a moment, he can heal you.”

Camnath shook his head very slowly. “He cannot, Tiene.” His voice was filled with such sorrow.

A tightness gripped her chest. She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Please, let me try,” she said, trying to keep the rising dread from her voice.

**Music: Your Dying Heart composed by Adrian von Ziegler**

 

“There is no cure for this, I’m afraid,” his voice hitched.

Slowly, he turned towards her. As his face came into view, her tears started to flow and she could not contain the audible sobs. The left side of his face was torn, exposing teeth, jaw bone and muscle. Only a small portion of his once beautiful mouth remained. The other side of his face was practically rent of flesh altogether, his skull showing through the glistening film of fresh blood. Thin strands of ripped skin fluttered and rippled on the summer breeze.

His hands were torn, battered and bloodied exposing bone, muscle and tendons. His leather armour severely rent, afforded little cover for the damage the undead had bestowed upon his body. Some of his innards lay strewn at his side, pulsing and glistening, wisps rising from their falling temperature and floating away on the air.

“I knew we would not survive when I saw them break through the barrier.” He said with a distant look in his eyes. He stared back at the ground, the vision of the attack still fresh in his mind.

A woeful smile stretched his mutilated mouth as he turned to Tiene. “They failed in making me ready for their necromancers at least. But, they got Belaen and the others, hence the beheadings.”

Tiene’s breath caught in her throat and she lowered her head, desperately trying to fend off the torrent that sat brimming behind her already shed tears. Battling with the agony of seeing Camnath like this she also felt utter fury that Belaen had led his guild into a trap. Brett had warned him but he did not listen. Now Belaen was dead along with most of his squad. And her beloved Camnath, loyal to the bitter end, simply could not refuse his leader, his mentor, and followed him into battle.

“They like to make you look the part,” he laughed drily.

Louvel, Lexie and Fyn reached the couple moments later. Louvel clasped his hand over his mouth and turned away, “No, no,  _no_!” he roared at no-one and nothing in particular. ” _Not_  Camnath.” He was deeply, deeply grieved to see what had become of the amiable young rogue, the love of Tiene’s life. Lexie fell to her knees, sobbing.

Fyn, if he had been able to shed tears, would have cried a river for the young couple. It was only now he felt utterly inadequate as a priest. The harbingers of undeath, this horrible plague the ever increasing scourge, were merciless, and the healers in Azeroth, whether living or undead, knew not how to keep this pestilence at bay. He questioned at that moment, why he had ever answered the call of the Light.

Camnath laughed drily. “I look like you now,” he said to the three undead, trying to make light of his dire situation. “But, I would not be as courageous as you are, my friends. If I had been turned, I could not bear it.” Then he looked at Tiene. For all the mutilation had been severe to his once handsome face, he still has some tears left to shed. A lone tear traced the side of his nose as he looked at the woman he loved more than life itself. “I am sorry my love, for we will never do the things we planned. A proper home, a future ... a  _family_.” His face held such remorse but he tried something resembling a wistful smile.

Brett was noticeably moved by the young rogue and he had to step further away for fear of crumbling completely in front of them. He felt so deeply for Tiene, her having lost so much already, she now stood to lose the man she loved with all her heart.

Tiene reached out to take her lover’s hand but he withdrew from her touch, he did not want her tainted by his ravaged body. She did not concede however, and clasped his hand, refusing to let go, then slid onto her bottom, nestling close to him. She lay her head on his chest. The wheeze and dry rattle from within, denoted his inner organs had started shutting down. She cried quietly, the pain of trying to keep debilitating sobs suppressed, tightening her chest by the second. The thought of losing him was unthinkable. It was not an option she would accept. Her voice, trembling and husky with battling her pain, she said, “We  _will_  have our dreams, Camnath, only not in this world. I  _cannot_  carry on without you...Our vows, remember?  _In light and shadow, I will walk with thee_... ”

He flinched. ” _No!_ Do not think like that, my love. You are not ready for the shadow yet.” His cold, ravaged fingers curled around her warm, soft ones. “My darling Tiene, you are the brightest star amid my darkest skies. I will love you forever.” His breath was starting to labour. “But, there is much you can still do to make a difference to this ... travesty, which has befallen our world, Tiene.”

His words were killing her. He was everything to her, her reason for living, for fighting on in times of terrible hardship, for believing there would be a bright future, for never giving up when the pain of passed losses became too much to bear. She needed him so desperately. He was her life, her rock.

“Besides,” he continued, trying to stop his own voice from breaking, “you have those three to look after, they are high maintenance.” He laughed a little, pointing at their undead friends. They smirked at his attempt to lighten the mood, but they too felt the pain the two lovers did at this time. Seemed emotions remained intact for the undead, even if nothing physical did.

Louvel had to turn away from the couple. He tried to blot out the agony of his friends’ predicament, but it was heart-rending. His shoulders shuddering, he wept dry tears. Fyn hobbled over and rested a bony hand on his shoulder, in an attempt to offer comfort. Louvel’s hand came up and covered Fyn’s. The little priest was in no better state of mind than he. They looked at one another in silent understanding.

With some degree of difficulty Camnath unsheathed one of his remaining daggers. “Tiene, I need you to do something for me.” Hilt first, he handed the dagger to her.

Tiene stared at it, realisation dawning. She sat back up on her knees, shaking her head, the tears flowing freely now. “Please, do not ask this of me, Camnath!”

With what little lips he had left, Camnath smiled. It would have been an unsettling sight to anyone who did not know the man, but for Tiene, it was the smile of someone who loved her deeply, had given his heart to her many years ago, and trusted her,  _implicitly,_ to carry out the task he required.

“Make it swift, my love, end my suffering. Once it is done, burn my remains.” He paused, the words now becoming a painful labour on his raw throat. “And, if I may, ask one more thing?”

She could not speak, to do so would cause her to falter and fail in what he was entrusting her to do. She simply nodded, slowly taking the dagger from him. He beckoned her nearer and whispered in her ear. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, her eyes scrunched tight against the pain. The tears splashed onto the blade and her hand. He lifted her chin, very gently. Their eyes met and in that moment he gave her the courage to do what she must.

He simply mouthed, “I love you.”

“I love you too. So very,  _very_  much,” she whispered back, touching his face.

She leaned down, and kissed his mouth. He was still beautiful to her. “Remember to wait for me,” she said in a broken whisper.

” _Forever_ , if need be,” he replied.

Then her tears mixed with his blood as she drove the blade home.

 

**

 

Quel’thalas was once more beautiful. Prince Kael’thas for all his questionable methods, had indeed seen that his people prospered. In the absence of the Sunwell, he bestowed a “gift”. Kael’thas had the Magister Rommath bring back a method of extracting magic from living creatures in the area. It had not been accepted by all the Blood elves, but some had welcomed it and it had proved beneficial to reinstating their vitality and abilities.

The knowledge of extracting sustenance in this manner had been shared by none other than Illidan Stormrage, the Night Elf Kael’thas had helped Maiev Shadowsong pursue. The Prince had allied himself with the naga and in doing so, willingly became one of Illidan’s lieutenants.

And so the renewed arcane power, heralded the return of the Magisters. They rebuilt the inner city in its former glory in a truly miraculous timeline and it was once more as Tiene remembered. Almost.

**_Music: For A Lost Love composed by Adrian von Ziegler_ **

Tiene, her red cape furling and unfurling around her body in the summer breeze, clasped a small urn to her breast. She looked out over the green expanse of lush meadows, staring out beyond the new-built spires and buildings of Silvermoon City, towards the Great Sea.

Just behind the red-caped figure stood more people. Brett Hornsby, Louvel Nottley, Fyn Goodwin and Lexie Melton. To the left stood Lor’themar Theron, and the Sunspear family Soaris, Camnath’s father, Velleane, his mother and Faealle, his sister.

A lynx meandered the pastures, looking for it’s dinner, but slunk back off into the undergrowth when nothing was on offer in the vicinity. Dragonhawks rode the soft currents of the air on their velvety wings, the sun reflecting the pastel shades of their elegant bodies. They majestically climbed the warm draughts making their long ribbon-like tails ripple and quiver. In a soft and elegant whoosh they dove back to the ground, hovering for a moment or two before repeating their graceful dance on air.

She glanced down at the urn in her hands. She carried her beloved’s ashes. Everyone had said their eulogies and awaited her to carry out Camnath’s last request. Part of her did not want to do it. She wanted to hold on to them. Other than a lock of his hair, it was all she had left of the man she had loved so deeply and had lived and breathed for. But it had been his dying wish, and that she would not deny him. Tears trickled over her cheeks as she heard his voice in her head.

 _“Take me home to Quel’thalas.”_  He’d said, then paused, trying to gather breath in his dying lungs.  _“Scatter my ashes in the evergreen meadows, where once, I stole a kiss. There my spirit will wait… carried on the wings of butterflies, until I hold you in my arms again.”_

She turned the lid, and carefully removed it. Slowly, she held the urn up, tipping it slightly allowing the breeze to wrap her beloved in its gentle embrace. She watched as the ashes swirled from the urn, rising on the warm draught.

Then something quite miraculous happened. From the flowering shrubs nearby a kaleidoscope of butterflies rose. Thousands upon thousands of the tiny wings took flight and rose to meet the ashes of Camnath Sunspear, carrying him safely over the meadow.

The Sunspear family gathered round Tiene, each with their arms around her. They watched in silent awe as the butterflies swirled and danced in the warm breeze. They shared a moment or two in quiet reverence, before turning to leave, allowing her time alone to watch the wings carry her beloved.

As if they had waited for that moment, the kaleidoscope turned and fluttered towards Tiene in one swirling mass. On reaching her they encircled her from her feet to her head. Her lips quivered into a smile as they swarmed around her. She lifted her arms and the beating wings rose, circling them too. One landed on her hand, it’s tiny wings opening and closing slowly as it’s tiny feet padded on her skin and the proboscis flicked the air. She brought it close to her face. “Wait for me,” she whispered.

From somewhere, far away she heard him answer,  _“Forever, if need be…”_

“Shorel’aran da’tad riom*,” Tiene smiled through the tears. She lifted her hand and the little wings took flight to join its companions. They sailed off over the meadow once more.

Her beloved, ebony-haired soulmate, husband and eternal love, Camnath Sunspear – gone with them.

* * *

 

* Shorel’aran da’tad riom – Farewell my love


	42. Lost

* * *

Despite Camnath’s words, Tiene could not see her way forward anymore. Enveloped in grief she drifted aimlessly every day through the rooms of the Sunfury Spire, barely acknowledging any of the servants, or those who passed through on state business. She wandered like a lost spirit. The staff were growing more and more concerned as they would see her talking to someone, although there was really no-one there. They feared she was going mad in her sorrow.

Sometimes, they heard her wailing, crying out for her beloved husband, throwing things around in her room, and then an eerie silence would follow. Many times Lor’themar had ordered her room broken into for he feared she had sunk so low as to take her own life. Eventually, he demanded the replacement doors had the locks removed. For good measure he also demanded her weapons were kept secured in his study and  _that_ door locked in his absence.

Although he would spend time with her whenever he was in the Spire, he could not put off important meetings, and they often took him away from Quel’thalas. His responsibilities were taking him away from his sister more often too. The return home was always plagued with concerns of how he would find her.

She refused to join him for dinner, closing herself away in her room, leaving plates of food, barely touched, outside her door. The maids, while sympathetic, shook their heads in quiet frustration, as their efforts to keep her strong and healthy were wasted.

Camnath’s family visited regularly, but she refused to see them. Somewhere from deep within, she knew they too suffered terribly from the loss of Camnath, but did not think it fair for them to bear witness to her misery too. This was the only demonstration that Tiene was still inside the thin little body that wandered through the corridors. Still they never gave up, and continued to call every other day, but always, they left without her seeing them.

Not even her friends had been able to reach her. Fyn, Louvel, Lexie and Brett would arrive and try force her out for walks and picnics. She would go with them occasionally, but she barely spoke and never ate much, only enough to sustain her, even then it was pitiful. She would accept a glass of wine, but it too remained unfinished, tipped over in the grass. She would merely stare out over the meadows or the sea and the never-ending tears would flow again.

Weeks turned into months, and no improvement was seen in her. She was becoming painfully thin, her skin colour was near grey, her once lustrous hair, lank and dull.

One person, tired of this shell that was formerly the fiesty Tiene Firefury, took it upon herself to visit her and give her some home truths which would either jolt her out of her morose state or, finally drive the dagger home to end it all. One way or the other, it needed doing. Lexie approached the Sunfury Spire, clutching a bag over her shoulder, prepared to have a show down with her best friend.

Staff, now familiar with seeing the undead woman visiting, simply nodded a salutation as she strode through the corridors and on to Tiene’s room. As she reached the door, she hesitated before she turned the handle. This was going to seem cruel, but it needed done. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Tiene, as usual sat on the window ledge, overlooking the Great Sea, twirling the lock of hair that had belonged to her dead husband. The elf turned her head slowly as she heard someone enter. Her eyes had lost their lustre. She looked almost as undead as Lexie herself.

Lexie was thankful she wore a mask, for Tiene could not see the semblence of a vexed look that played on the lower part of her face. She really didn’t want to say some of the things she planned on saying. She loved Tiene very much, but the woman could not be allowed to continue wandering about in a shroud of grief and misery for the rest of her days. Camnath had not wished this for his wife. Nor did anyone else that loved her.

Lexie turned and closed the door. The room was opulent, dressed with the traditional red and gold drapes and soft furnishings mirroring the Silvermoon standard. Fine golden voile sheers billowed into the room from the open windows, in ghostly dances. Chaise longue again in the traditional red of Silvermoon with the ornate golden framework, sat near one of the windows over-looking the sea. The bed, enormous, it could sleep four people easily, looked as if it had never been slept in, in weeks. It would not have surprised Lexie if that was the case, for she doubted Tiene got much sleep these days. Her eyes, if not wet with tears, seemed to be in a perpetual stare at the world, sunken and never blinking.

She approached Tiene. There was no point trying to make small talk, it never worked, so straight to the crux of the matter.

“Just what does that lock of hair  _mean_  to you, Tiene?” she said in as snide a manner as she could muster, for she really did not enjoy this. ” _Anything_?”

Tiene’s eyes narrowed and held the undead’s gaze but she did not respond.

“What do you think he would be saying if he stood in front of you, right now?”

Tiene’s eyes welled. Her fingers furiously knotting through the lock of hair. She tore her gaze from the undead woman.

Lexie carried on, leaning against the window frame. “He’d say, ” _Who the hell is this woman! Because she isn’t the one I married_! What was it he called you that night when he lay  _bleeding_  against that tree?”

“Stop it!” Tiene breathed. Her eyes darted back and forth but she did not look at Lexie.

” _You were the brightest star amid my darkest skies._  That was it...Well you’re not shining too bright now, are you, Tiene? How is he meant to find his way to you when your time comes?”

The blonde elf turned away, her shoulders shuddering with sobs.

“Can you picture him? Is he still handsome, with his bright green eyes and long black mane? Or is he torn, shredded, oozing blood and pus, half his face gone...” Lexie closed in on her friend, taunting her.

” _Stop_!” her voice rasped.

“Whatever he looks like now, he must wonder, how come she could wreak revenge on Sauren Nightflame for what  _he_  did to her  _friends_ , yet here she  _sits_...”

“Stop it!” she thumped her fists on the cill.

“... _moping, wallowing_  in self pity, doing  _nothing_ , for the one she  _claimed_  to love!”

Tiene’s knees crumpled and she fell to the floor. She started to rock back and forth.

“Yes, go on!  _Cry_  some more, why don’t you! You are no longer of a reputable rogue family, no longer do you earn the name you were born with! The fight is gone, and all that faith people had in you. What of all that training, alongside some amazing individuals, I may add? They too thought you were something to look up to.  _As did your husband_!”

Tiene folded into herself, shaking her head as if trying to deny Lexie’s words to penetrate the bubble she lived in.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s not fed up seeing you like this.” Lexie’s voice caught in the back of her throat. This was hurting her too, more than Tiene would ever know.

She fished about in the bag she carried and brought out a jar. In it was a butterfly. She thrust it in front of Tiene’s face. “Did he not collect these for you,  _every_  year Tiene. No matter  _where_  he was, he came back here  _faithfully_  to get them.”

The elf wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at jar. The little wings beat rapidly, contained within the small space. The bright colours reflected in her eyes. A memory flitted across her tormented mind, one of the gift Camnath brought her at the Gathering many years ago. How it had moved her. And she’d heard of his annual trek once they were reunited. Shakily, she took the jar from Lexie’s hand. “Yes!” she managed.

“And he never gave up on you, did he? Even all the years you were with ... you know...”

Tiene clasped the jar to her breast. ” _Stop_! Please Lexie! I’m lost without him. I don’t want to feel this pain any more.”

It was the most words Tiene had spoken in months. “I know,” Lexie said. Her voice softer now. “But you need to do something to help ease it. He wanted you to make a difference Tiene. So do it!  _For him_.”

Tiene slowly looked up at her. “What can I do though? Nothing seems to  _make_  a difference, the scourge keep coming back.”

Lexie knelt beside her. The elf’s pain was indeed tangible. Lexie had never seen anyone carry this much sorrow and still be breathing. Yet that in itself proved the smallest flicker of what was once a proud Firefury still lay somewhere deep within. She put her arms around her friend and pulled her close. “Firstly, we get some meat back on those bones of yours, woman. I know I am beautiful, but trying to emulate me is just not a good look for you.”

Tiene made a small sound which could have been taken for a half-hearted laugh. She pulled back a little and looked at her friend. Her vision still blurry, she wiped the tears from her eyes. “You  _are_  beautiful Lexie. Truly. In more ways than you know.”

Lexie would have smiled if she could, but the crinkles around her eyes showed Tiene that she appreciated her kind words. “Come on then, let’s start getting you back to being healthy. We will discuss what to do next once we have you as you should be. As Tiene Firefury.”

It had been the medicine she had needed, and although she still regularly wept for her lost love, she also spoke to his spirit, telling him she would continue on, at least until she was achieved what was required. Then, his wait for her would be over, this she promised.

Gradually, the Firefury girl emerged from the depths of her sorrow, and she regained her vitality, her focus, and the faith that Camnath had instilled in her, the will to fight on and make a difference.

 

* * *

* * *

 

There had been much going on in the world during Tiene’s inner incarceration. Things which still affected her and her people. Namely the turn of events with Prince Kael’thas. And it was during one of Lor’themar’s longer periods at home, that Tiene was brought up to speed on developments.

Tiene, Lexie, Brett and Lor’themar sat around the dinner table one evening and Brett started the conversation. There had been much information through the network, as a number of the guild’s rogues had travelled to Outland to find out what was going on. “Kael’thas’ new leader, Illidan Stormrage, is proving a bit of an enigma to many outwith the Night Elf persuasion. His own people still see him as the Betrayer, but his actions have started to intrigue some of the other races.”

“Such as?” Tiene asked.

“This half elf half demon is perhaps not all he seems. Although he appears to be carrying out the orders of the Burning Legion, questions are raised as it seemed he had in fact been  _hiding_ in Outland from the Legion’s leaders. A devoted servant surely, would not hide?”

“Perhaps,” Lor’themar commented as he stabbed at a piece of boar meat on his plate. “Or he may simply be power drunk and sourcing magic for his own ends. He is, or was, after all a powerful peculat in the art of the arcane.”

“He still carries out the orders of the Legion though,” Lexie intervened. “How, therefore, is it even being debated that he is anything  _but_ a willing servant of them?” She swallowed some wine. “And he’s been none to successful at doing their bidding neither, from what I hear.”

Brett sighed. If Tiene was not mistaken, it seemed Brett found the Betrayer intriguing indeed. He was not prone to wasting time considering things which did not show potential and definite possibilities. “Before Kael’thas betrayed him…”

A cough from Lor’themar warned Brett to tred carefully about how he spoke of the Blood Elf monarch.

Brett’s lips thinned but he nodded in respect. “He had sent a large number of his people to Illidan. The Betrayer is forming an army, some sort of super soldier if you will, to – according to sources – fight the Burning Legion.”

“Wait a minute! You said Kael’thas betrayed him?” Tiene sat forward. Again Lor’themar indicated displeasure at the disparaging inference to the Prince. She looked at her brother in a way no-one else would have. “Denying it will not change the fact if it is true, brother,” she said.

Lor’themar raised his one eyebrow. ” _If_ , being the decisive word here,” he said before taking a sip of wine.

“I don’t understand you, Lor’themar,” Tiene said, a note of the old frustration in her voice. Lexie and Brett shared a look of mutual relief – the girl was back. “Kael’thas has clearly stated he does not want the crown, saying his father would be the last king of Quel’thalas. Have you ever wondered why? He is basically saying he does not want to lead us.”

“No!” Lor’themar peculationyically thumped the table with his fist. “He has sent back methods to help us, Tiene. We are getting stronger by the day. He wants us to grow, for some of us to move to Outland, where we will flourish.”

“Those are  _his_  words, Lor’themar, not yours!” Tiene fired back. “You did not want to be Regent Lord, and I can still see the mantle sits peculationy on your shoulders. You question his decisions on a daily basis and those of others, such as Sylvanas.”

Lor’themar flinched slightly, but only enough for Tiene to notice. It had been hard for Lor’themar to come anywhere close to trusting Sylvanas, following her brutal slaying of the Rangers and other innocents when their land was invaded by Athas and his scourge. He heard she not been in her own mind when doing the deed, but still, it was difficult to see past the slaughter. Tiene reached out and placed her hand over his. He curled his fingers round hers and smiled wanly. With a sigh, he spoke. “Yes, you are right, Tiene. I still do not enjoy this office, and probably never will, but it is something I must do, and as honourably as I can. But, I have to believe Kael’thas has our interests at heart.”

“I understand,” she said. “I do believe he did,  _once_  – but how can we truly tell what goes through his mind, especially when he is so far away in Outland?”

“He did try to do battle with Arthas,” Lexie pointed out.

Again, this was all news to Tiene, so she asked they tell her what has been going on for the past few months. They proceeded to do just that.

Kil’jaeden, another eredar like Archimonde who had attempted to destroy the World Tree, but more powerful still, found Illidan and his band of allies in Outland. Word had it that Illidan was being given one last chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the Legion by attacking The Frozen Throne. Kil’jaeden had another “pet” there who continued to disappoint him and he wanted him eradicated. Ner’zhul. The Lich King’s usefulness was now nullified. The Frozen Throne needed to be destroyed.

Illidan travelled with his allies to Icecrown in Northrend. Lady Vashj, the one time hand maiden to Queen Azshara, led the naga Illidan had called from the depths of the sea and Kael’thas brought his elves.

Once there, they encountered Arthas Menethil who also wanted to reach the Frozen throne, but for a different reason. The elves battled against Arthas, hellbent on revenge for his destruction of Quel’thalas, but he received aid from an unexpected source. A Crypt Lord. The giant spider-like nerubian with its armoured carapace was affiliated with the scourge, Ner’zhul’s armies. This Crypt Lord led Arthas through a maze of underground tunnels in a bid to reach the Frozen Throne ahead of Illidan and his allies.

On reaching upper ground however, Arthas had been met by the elves again and the naga, who tore in about his minions.

Prince Kael’thas had reforged his father’s sword, Felo’melorn, and battled with Arthas to buy Illidan time to reach the Frozen Throne. For a while it seemed the Prince had the upperhand, teleporting a few times behind the death knight during combat, deflecting the strikes of the former Prince of Lordaeron. But Arthas’ advantage was the location of the fight, for he was being empowered by the close proximity of the Lich King, Ner’zhul. Despite a valiant attempt by Prince Kael’thas, he had no option but to remove himself from battle, and teleported himself to safety. Unfortunately, for the Prince, his father’s sword was lost in the conflict.

Thus he opened the way for his new leader to fight Arthas. Illidan Stormrage, armed with his Twin Blades of Azzinoth took on the mighty death knight. But, once more Frostmourne and its wielder won the day, and Illidan was left wounded on the slopes of Icecrown. Kael’thas and Vashj carried their master’s body back to Outland. It seemed it was another of Illidan’s failed attempts to carry out the Burning Legion’s instructions.

Arthas won the race to the Frozen Throne. He threw his sword, Frostmourne, breaking the ice prison that held Ner’zhul, releasing him finally. In doing so, the armoured helm of the Lich King fell to Arthas’ feet and donning the cursed armour, Arthas Menethil was reborn as the new Lich King.

Since then, Prince Kael’thas had moved on to Netherstorm and had overrun a citadel, which really was an enormous peculati, called Tempest Keep. In order to further help his people of Quel’thalas, he captured one of the citadel’s defenders. A naaru, going by the name of M’uru. He sent this back to his people along with a message through Rommath that the nation now had a source from which they could sate their hunger for magic.

Tiene had hardly moved a muscle while Brett had explained what was being reported through the network. She could understand why Lor’themar still believed in his monarch. There was nothing in that report to suggest otherwise. Brett had not finished however, and his earlier statement of Kael’thas’ betraying the half elf half demon was then explained in full.

Things were not all good news about their Prince however. It is questionable whether the attack on Shattrath was actually ordered by Illidan, or if indeed Kael’thas, assuming sovereignty, now that he had claimed Tempest Keep, had simply tried to lay waste to the city. However, the attack failed miserably when the force he sent laid down their arms and defected, thereafter becoming known as the Scryers who now shared the city with those of the Alliance forces, the Sha’tar and the naaru, Adal. The detrimental result through this defection was the enormous depletion to his followers with many of the best scholars and magisters amongst them.

This enraged the Prince, who soon started to consume fel energy after finding the arcane sources limited. Through doing so, he succumbed to the temptations of Kil’jadaen who promised to deliver salvation to the Prince’s people back in Quel’thalas.

Believing Illidan to have been driven mad following his defeat at the hands of the now new Lich King, Arthas, Kael’thas betrayed the half elf half demon and became a willing servant of the Burning Legion.

“That is mere peculation!” Lor’themar said, his chair scraping against the floor as he shot upright.

“It was!” Brett replied. “But it has now been confirmed. Ask Rommath if you do not believe me, Regent Lord.”

Tiene took a few moments to go over what she had just heard. Primarily, it seemed the Blood Elves esteemed monarch had betrayed them also, serving the very thing which had influenced the likes of Ner’zhul, Arthas, Kel’thuzad, Dar’khan, even Sauren albeit indirectly, and all others involved in the decimation of Quel’thalas, not forgetting Lordaeron. This was devastating news.

She looked at her brother. He was obviously deeply distraught by this news, though something in his eye and the way he postured, told her that he had been expecting it. Poor Lor’themar, it looked like all the responsibility of governing Quel’thalas was going to end up on his shoulders, alone.

And as for the Betrayer, this Illidan Stormrage…his loyalties were still being questioned. It was understandable that his own people might see him as another puppet of the Burning Legion, after all he had done, but others, like Brett for example, saw hairline fractures in their assumptions. Rumour had it he was training volunteers to fight against the Legion. Creating a  _special_  army. If that was the case, then perhaps, just  _perhaps_ , this may be the leader Azerothians needed to quash the Burning Legion?

With a glance at Lexie, she raised her glass. Lexie could have been smiling, she didn’t really know, but a toast was made nonetheless to her good friend. This may just be what Tiene needed to do to make the difference she so desperately sought.

Lexie inclined her head, and raised her glass also.


	43. Outland

* * *

“Tiene,” a voice called softly, pulling her from her slumber. “Wake up,” the voice coaxed. She recognised Thil’las’ voice. It took her a few moments to open her eyes, they felt as though were caked shut. She had to rub them open. Her vision blurry from the action, she shook her head a couple of times as if trying to throw off the fuzziness. Thil’las smiled as she looked at him, then he moved across the room and joined the others.

She stretched, listening to some of her bones crack and muscles ping as she did so. Her body ached. She would love nothing more than a warm bath to ease her tired muscles and aching bones, but it was not a luxury she could afford right now.

She looked around, familiarising herself with the new landscape again. She shivered, but not from cold. It was the perpetual sense of doom that Shadowmoon Valley emanated. The eerie glow from the fel, the sound of meteors whoosing then screaming through the air before they hit the ground with a reverberating thud.

“Boy, when you sleep, you sleep!” Lexie said, sharpening her blades.

“What? How long?”

“A day and a half, nearly.”

” _No_!”

“Yes. And you were dreaming most the time.” Lexie’s voice indicated she knew only too well what had been going on in Tiene’s head.

Tiene pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Why did you let me sleep so long?”

“You must have needed it. I’m making sure you have all the strength you can muster.”

Tiene stood up and stretched again. “You needn’t worry any more on that front Lexie. I’m eating fine and, as we have just seen, I sleep well enough.”

The undead woman cackled. “I dare say you do.”

Emmek came striding into the rooms the team had been sharing. He had just returned from patrolling the area and he looked concerned, his eyebrows knitted, his eyes darting about the place like a nervous critter.

“What’s wrong?” Tiene asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped a little at her touch and took a deep breath before speaking. “It’s the army he’s buildin’, they’re – they’re...”

Lexie came over to join the two rogues. “They’re  _what_?” she asked.

Emmek drew a hand over his mouth. This was not like the dwarf at all. He seemed genuinely disturbed. “They’re demons themselves!” he said in a hoarse whisper. “They’ve horns sproutin’ frae their heids,” he gestured with his hands. “Some wi’ other deformities such as gnarled, clawed hands an’ feet, like whit satyrs huv. They’re a’  _blind_  ana’! Wearin’ dirty rags roond where their eyes yist tae be. Tiene! He’s no’  _training_  elves at a’, he’s  _feeding_  them to these demons, ahm sure of’ it! Ahm telling ye now lass, it’s  _no_  the path for  _you_. So git that nonsense right oot yer heid,  _now_!”

Tiene looked at him as if he had gone mad. This could not be. The Betrayer was meant to be forging and army to  _defeat_  the Legion, not become part of it. There had to be a mistake. She did not doubt the integrity of her dwarf colleague, but she had to find out for herself. She gathered her daggers and clasped on more armour around her legs and torso.

“Where ye going!” Emmek said, not so much of a question as a demand to know.

“I need to see this for myself,” she said turning to leave the rooms.

“Is ma wurd no gid enough, nowadays?” Emmek challenged.

Tiene stopped dead in her tracks. She had not meant to give the impression she did not believe him. Turning, she strolled back to where the dwarf stood with his stocky fists clenching and unclenching. “I do not doubt what you saw Emmek. But, I have travelled a long, long way, to suddenly be thwarted by something which I do not understand? There has to be more to this. Surely he cannot be simply training demons they capture to fight against their own. Brett told us Kael’thas sent some of the Sin’dorei to the Betrayer to  _train_ in his armies. I want to know what happened to them!”

“I’m coming with you,” Lexie said, gathering her things.

“No, stay here!” Tiene said a little more forcefully than she’d intended. She noted how both Emmek and Lexie became rigid at her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound like an order. It’s just I will be faster on my own and I need you to be here and make sure the others are all okay.”

“Yer no’ foolin’ me, lass,” Emmek said, his bushy eyebrows bristling and nostrils flaring.

“Nor me,” Lexie confirmed. “We’re going and that’s it. The others are grown ups, they can look after themselves.”

“Lexie, I have been asleep for over a day, you have all been fighting on without me. You need to rest now. Please, let me investigate on my own.”

Emmek shifted on the balls of his feet, shooting glances at Lexie. “I dare say she’s got a point.”

Lexie glared at him, furious that he would even consider letting Tiene go out on her own. “Listen wee man,  _you_  might need a rest, but I don’t! I’m undead for crying out loud,  _we_  don’t need to sleep!” She stabbed a gloved finger at the dwarf.

“Ah’ll huv ye know that us dwarves have  _unlimited_  stamina...” Emmek was most offended that the undead suggested he needed to rest.

“For  _drinking_ , maybe...” Lexie taunted the dwarf.

“Ye cheeky wee bag o’ bones!”

“Oh!! Insults now is it, shortie!”

Tiene sighed and looked out to the small square where some of her other colleagues relaxed. The squad of ten rogues, now named the Shadow Blades, were all good men and women, consisting of Blood Elves, Night Elves, Dwarfs and Humans plus the token Undead of course. They had arrived in Shadowmoon Valley a week ago and were assigned to maintain covert operations going on in the area.

Tiene had readily volunteered her services. Brett had at first, been reluctant to let her join the squad, but she went all out to prove she was back to full health and her skills were once more honed, sleek and deadly. He conceded in the end. There was no reason she should not continue working for the guild.

Apart from the last two days where she had spent most her time sleeping, they had, as a team battled the myriad of demons as they progressed through the area. Taking refuge where they could find it, often around rocky crevices and ledges in makeshift shelters, they had taken turns at keeping watch. Tiene had went without much sleep up until they reached the Sanctum of the Stars. Then her body obviously compensated for the days she had battled on endlessly.

Now she felt revitalised. The news that Emmek had returned with, had her curiosity piqued, tenfold. They had heard stories as they neared their destination, but this was not a version encountered until now. Everyone had spoken of the half elf half demon leader but somehow, visualising him had been nigh on impossible for Tiene. Having befriended many Night Elves, though fierce fighters when in battle, they were overall a gentle breed with a strong persuasion to the druidic way of life. Her heart was hammering. What if in fact he  _was_ more demon and possessed all the foul characteristics of the Legion? What could she do then? Where could she turn next? This was potentially her future.

Regrettably, Emmek had overheard Lexie and Tiene talking one night. Tiene had foolishly said that if serving in the Betrayer’s army was what it took to defeat the Legion, then so be it. She had come back fighting from her grief, and she was determined to do whatever was necessary to wreak vengeance on those who had robbed her of all her loved ones. The Burning Legion. The source of all the poison in Azeroth. Now she had a clearer understanding of its intentions and all those who had been influenced by its far-reaching grasp.

This Betrayer, Illidan Stormrage, might be the one to lead the fight and bring about the downfall of the Burning Legion once and for all. She certainly hoped he was, as she had run out of options to make a difference. The Burning Legion, this  _parasite_  that gorged itself on the greed and madness of those seeking ultimate power, and in turn laid waste to the good souls of Azeroth and destroyed their homes, had to be stopped.

As Lexie and Emmet continued to exchange insults, Tiene decided it was time to investigate on her own. _Onas thuash d’aresh, alsu o’doreu._ Tiene stealthed out of the rooms while the two of them argued. She had reached the bottom of the steps to the entrance to the Sanctum of the Stars before she heard the two of them shouting her name. She smirked and quickly made her way north-west to where the Betrayer was reputedly holding court.

 

* * *

* * *

 

As she approached the daunting structure known as the Black Temple, her heart started to hammer so loudly against her ribcage she could hear it plainly pounding in her ears. Now was not the time to let her nerves get the better of her. She was in the middle of the largest concentration of demons she had ever seen. All manner of beasts from the truly titanic fel –flamed, walking boulders, known as abyssals, to the smallest, but equally deadly imps, grotesque, nightmarish creatures with clawed limbs, long ears and tails and razor-sharp teeth.

She noted also many elves were present. Not all were soldiers either. Some were sorcerers, magisters, fear-bringers, all who possessed magical ability of varying degrees. This was where she would need to be most careful, for they would be able to detect her easily enough.

All her years training were about to be put to the test. Stealth, shadow-stepping, Shado-pan, her three vital “S’s” which she needed to combine expertly in order to get past these elves and demons to reach her goal.

Crouching low, she moved with feline precision, smooth and fluid, keeping her back close to the wall that bordered the first set of stairs she ascended. The sound of clashing steel coming from her right reached her ears. At first she thought a battle was in progress but when she rounded the corner of the wall at the top of the steps, she saw it was merely elves training. They were perfectly normal looking elves too. So where were the ones Emmek spoke of? She darted past the groups of combatants and up more stairs.

Her eyes widened as she saw an enormous demon, to her left. It was immobilised by shadow magic being cast by four elven spell weavers manipulating shadowy chains around the great beast. It was a giant hybrid of dragon and man, with its head adorned by ram-like horns that curled back over its massive skull. She could see it roaring in agony, throwing its head back in silent screams as the magic wound its way round, in and through its gigantic form. Its eyes burned an unearthly fiery red and flames licked around its mouth. She had to tear her gaze from the torture of the beast and move on towards the temple itself.

Having scaled three levels towards her goal, she halted and looked over towards the wide road that led up to the entrance of the Temple. Her mouth fell open at the sheer numbers of demonic creatures below. The sounds of clashing steel and the heavy thwack and thud of maces, axes and swords from fighting on both her left and right built to an ear-bleeding crescendo. Screams and mighty roars resulting from agonising wounds and hacking of flesh rose on the sulphur infused air. The unmistakable stench of death permeated even the cracked stone and crumbling walls of a once impressive place of worship. The dry, pitted, grey-green soil ran black from the blood which spread out like nightmarish tendrils set on a path of destruction as if to tear down the great walls that housed the Betrayer, his army and faithful minions. This was what the self acclaimed Lord of Outland defended against the Legion? It was shambolic.

The attackers to her left seemed to be of Alliance affiliation, mainly humans, Night Elves, and dwarves. There were some however, she had never seen the likes of before. Blue-skinned, tall and cloven hoofed with tails. The males of the species, powerful and strong, had tentacle type growths sprouting from their jaw lines, all adorned with bright gold and silver rings. The females, though more slender, fought just as fiercely and effectively.

It took time for her eyes to differentiate those on her right from their quarry. The cloth wraps around their eyes, horned heads and varying demonic deformities indicated the creatures Emmek had spoken of. They looked vaguely elven but there was too much demon for them to have been her people.

These were the super soldiers? These half demons? No! This couldn’t be. They  _were_  the Legion. It mattered not that Illidan had somehow brainwashed them into fighting their own, they were still just  _vermin_. Emmek had been right. The Sin’dorei must have been nothing more than a food source for them. Kael’thas had indeed betrayed his nation, and in as barbaric a way as he could.

She sat down with a defeated thump. She felt utter hopelessness. The dark depressive surroundings started to eat into her. With her head in her hands she started to weep. All this had been for nothing. There was no hope, no salvation. No end.

A sudden draught and sound, like tough hide being rapidly unfurled had her on the defensive. Turning round slowly to look behind her, she was faced by one of the blind demonic creatures.

It was female, no mistaking that. The long ears, eyebrows and oddly familiar markings leaking from below the cloth that covered her eyes, strangely resembled that of a Night Elf. The facial markings reminded Tiene of the rite of passage tattoos she had seen on the elves in Auberdine. Yet, this creature also had long slender horns protruding from her head. Her hands were more like talons and she had ... wings! Like a giant bat.

Still stealthed, and sitting, Tiene pushed up on her hands and feet, moving backwards, her behind catching on some of the sharp stone beneath her. She winced as she felt her palm being sliced by one of the loose shards. She glanced down, a moment of panic. Her blood was on the stone.

The demon creature’s head snapped round and she sniffed the air, suddenly lowering herself into a crouch. Tiene caught her breath and stayed rigid. The female demon used its long arms in conjunction with its folded wings to creep along the ground in front of her, like a predator searching for its next meal. Tattoos on its arms pulsed, glowing the eerie green of the fel. Still the creature sniffed the air. Then it smiled in a lop-sided manner, the tiny fangs glinting in the fluorescent fel flames of the crashing meteors that shot overhead. Tiene was afraid to breathe, but pain was building in her chest from lack of air. The demon stilled, like a stone gargoyle, it’s wrapped eyes facing Tiene. Unsure whether it could see her, Tiene very, very slowly exhaled. Next she chanced moving back another few inches. The creature didn’t move. Without moving her head, Tiene’s eyes glanced either side of her. She was trapped. A high section of wall immediately to her left, and the massive drop to the road below on her right.

As she was trying to assess her best move, the creature shifted at an alarming speed. Before Tiene had a chance to react the creature had grabbed her ankle and the giant wings unfurled. The female lifted into the air, taking the Blood Elf rogue with her in a most undignified manner. Tiene tried to pull herself up, drawing one of her daggers from her thigh straps ready to slice the creature’s wrist. But the demon was not to be outsmarted and shook the little elf quite briskly, causing Tiene’s body to flop downwards again and the dagger to be loosed from her grip.

The demon rose higher and higher, flying towards the apex of the Temple. Tiene, knowing full well struggling was only going to result in her possibly falling to the dry earth below and dying in the process, still fought against the demon’s grip. She had decided she would rather die by being splattered on the cold stone below than ending up being torn to pieces in the teeth of hungry demons. She used all the strength she had to pull herself up again. She swiped at the demon’s hand, almost reaching it. Another swipe. The demon looked down, her mouth displaying her lop-sided smile, before she shook Tiene once more causing the elf to falter again.

Then, quite unceremoniously she was dumped on the high rise platform of the Black Temple. She landed half on her side. The impact had hurt her elbow and all the way down her right leg. She pushed herself up a little, groaning as she did. As her eyes travelled across the stone in front of her, she was met by cloven hooves. Enormous, cloven hooves! She inwardly groaned again. This was how she was going to die. As a canapé for a demon.

“Thank you,” a deep voice said.

“A pleasure, my Lord.”

Tiene saw the female’s legs come round in front of her and stand beside the cloven-hooves.

“Welcome, Sin’dorei,” the deep voice said.

Tiene’s brows knitted.  _Unusual for one to speak to one’s dinner_ , she thought. Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and raised her eyes.

The deep voice belonged to a purple-hued demon with bright green tattoos over its arms, shoulders and chest. Arms folded with taloned fingers flexing over its immense biceps, it towered over her, a grin, suggesting it was amused at her obvious confusion.

As with the female it wore a ragged piece of cloth over where it’s eyes would be. From behind this one’s bandage though, the green flare of fel flashed. It was then Tiene realised, the wraps covered not eyes at all, merely sockets.

It’s head bore two horns that curved high and back over its head. A black mane tied up in a tight high-knot fluttered out behind between the demon-hide wings that rippled and flexed, one curving affectionately round the female who had delivered her.

“You can drop your concealment,” the male said. “I am well versed in magic, you cannot hide from me.”

“Sha’al,” Tiene whispered. There was no point in even considering trying to make a run for it. These creatures would have her impaled on their horns before she got two steps away.

The female knelt beside her. She looked at Tiene with mild curiosity as far as she could tell. “I did not mean to hurt you,” she said.

Tiene flinched, taken by surprise. “You – you didn’t?”

The lop-sided smile crept on the female’s face. “No. My Lord saw you and asked me to fetch you, for fear you fell.”

Tiene glanced between the two demons. This was...odd. “You are demons. I don’t understand.”

The female laughed lightly before standing up and rejoining the male. He simply stood, arms still crossed, looking in Tiene’s direction. He seemed to be studying her like a specimen under a scope. Finally he smiled, albeit a little unnerving. “I am who you seek, Sin’dorei,” he said. “I am Illidan Stormrage.”


	44. Decisions

* * *

“You?” Tiene was stunned by the demon’s introduction. ” _You_ , are the Betrayer?”

The female, pleasant only moments ago, snarled and hissed at her now, assuming a half-crouch, talons flexed ready to rip and tear. Tiene flinched and fell back onto her behind.

Illidan stepped forward placing an arm round the female demon’s waist pulling her towards him. He towered over her, his physique powerful and commanding. Very gently he traced her jaw with a taloned forefinger. The act had an instant calming effect on her. Tiene watched, mesmerised as Illidan’s mouth neared the female’s. “She means no insult, Arcaena. It is merely the name she knows me by.” His lips hovered over the female’s for a tantalising moment, then gently he released her from his embrace. The aggression melted completely from Arcaena, like a shroud falling from her shoulders.

Tiene was trying to make the scene compute in her slightly unsettled brain. Somehow, demon plus tenderness just did not add up. Now she felt even more confused. Did he just bewitch Arcaena? Or was there genuine affection between these two? The Betrayer was meant to be ruthless, a warrior, a powerful sorceror, a slayer of ...well, now Tiene wasn’t sure who he slayed - or didn’t.

He turned his attention back to Tiene, grinning as he saw the bemused expression on her face. “You seem ... aghast,” he said. “I take it I am not what you expected?”

Tiene was still trying to come to terms with the fact they weren’t gnawing on her bones and he was actually talking quite civilly to her. She thought it was best nonetheless to try be coherent and polite in return, or else just maybe, she might still be on the menu. “I – I did not know what to expect to be honest. I assumed you were more – elf than demon I suppose. Especially since Prince Kael’thas...”

Arcaena hissed again. Illidan’s expression, hard to interpret with there being no eyes on view, seemed to remain impassive, other than the smallest hint of fangs being bared.

“Did he send you?” Illidan asked, his voice even.

“No! He has betrayed my people...”

“He betrayed  _us_!” spat Arcaena.

Tiene’s eyes grew wide. Seemed every utterance from Tiene’s lips caused the female to have a seizure. She looked back up at Illidan.  _Oh Belore, he is huge!_  she thought as she continued cowering on the ground before him.

“Yes,” he said, head tilting as he looked at her. “He was  _weak_ , seduced by Kil’jaeden and his empty promises. He no longer fights the Legion, he serves it.” His voice was brimming with disgust.

If he had expected Tiene to defend her people’s monarch, he was going to be surprised. She was pleased to hear the one thing she had been hoping for though. Illidan was  _against_  the Legion,  _not_  for it. “I know, I heard!” she replied. ” We do not follow him, he has offended our people by swearing allegiance to the very thing that destroyed our homes and our...” Her voice hitched. “...and our loved ones.” She dropped her gaze to the stone floor and heaved as her breath caught in her throat. It was never going to get any easier. The pain of all her losses were still so fresh. So raw.

The female stepped nearer. Tiene’s words had meant something to her it seemed. Her entire persona altered. “If you are not here at his instruction then, why  _are_  you here?” She held out her hand to Tiene, offering to help her up. Tentatively, Tiene accepted. Once she was standing, Illidan didn’t seem quite as imposing, though he was still enormous and built like an orc’s brick latrine. Arcaena too, was tall and muscular. She was certainly taller than Tiene by a good few inches and undoubtedly powerful.

She took a deep breath before she answered the demon’s question. “I was told you are recruiting. I know not how to be effective against the Legion anymore. I thought I was doing the best I could, until...” she crumbled a little, but forced herself to continue. “Until I lost my husband to the scourge. I  _need_  to fight, I  _need_  to avenge him and my family as best I can. Only then will I find peace.”

Illidan once more crossed his muscled arms and looked down at her. He took a few moments, digesting her words. She wore her pain like a shroud, wrapped around her, sometimes suffocating, sometimes bizarrely comforting, serving a reminder she had loved fiercely. “You wish to become a Demon Hunter?”

She sniffed back the tears. “If that is what you call your army, then yes.”

Illidan laughed lightly. “It is much more than a mere name, Sin’dorei. It is a commitment, an oath, a constant battle within, as well as without. Are you sure you want this? Do you think you are prepared?”

It was stand or run, fight or flight, commit or forfeit, whatever you wanted to call it, it was decision time.

“It is unfair to ask her to decide without showing her first, my love.” Arcaena said turning to look at Illidan.

_My love?_

The half elf half demon male sighed deeply. “You are right, as always, Arcaena. But...” he looked at Tiene again. “...understand this Sin’dorei.  _If_  you decide to join us, there is no turning back. You will not be able to simply leave like your weakling of a prince did. You will be part of my Illidari, until the day you die.”

Tiene swallowed. “And if, after I see whatever it is you are going to show me, I decide  _not_  to join? What then?”

Illidan’s fangs were on full display as a menacing smile curved his lips. But, his silence spoke volumes.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“And whar the  _hell_  huv ye been!” Emmek shouted as he marched into the room. He came to an abrupt halt in front of Tiene, his strong and chunky fists perched on his hips.

She sat on the edge of a bunk, slicing an apple. She just put a slice in her mouth as Lexie drew up beside the dour dwarf. Next to join them was Thil’las. Tiene munched as she studied the three faces in ascending order. All looked mad with her, although Lexie, bless, always looked like that nowadays. “I went for a walk,” she said.

“A walk! I’ll walk ye, madam! Ye’ve hud us  _oot oor minds_  wi’ worry!”

“Oh calm your britches, Emmek! I’m back, safe and sound.” Internally though, her stomach was doing somersaults and cartwheels, while cramping like crazy and protesting greatly to the apple she was consuming.

What she had witnessed at the Black Temple was truly terrifying. She rose from the bunk and shouldered past Thil’las. She still had to decide. Admittedly, horrifying though it was and in view that it carried the huge risk of failure before she even reached the first hurdle, she was nonetheless leaning towards becoming what Illidan and Arcaena proposed.

Now, she was just uncertain whether to confide in her friends. Should she just disappear and let them believe she was dead? If she told them, they would most likely vote “No” of course, and do everything in their power to ensure she adopted  _their_  way of thinking. Which option would be the least upsetting? For all of them. Perhaps she should sleep on it? Her face broke into a smile.  _Sleep_! As if that would come easy now. What with a day and a half lost already to it, and now this literal life-changing decision to make...

Lexie tugged her shoulder. “What is going on in that mind of yours, Tiene?” she asked. “We love you, you stupid woman! We were worried! And all you do is eat an apple, dismiss us as if we are – mangy murlocs...”

“I  _like_  murlocs,” Tiene said, popping another piece of indigestible apple in her mouth.

Lexie was momentarily knocked off course. “Well –  _whatever_! But you don’t simply walk away, as if you had just been out for a summer stroll along the banks of Loch Modan.”

“Tiene. Lexie is right. We care. We were worried. You owe us an explanation.” Thil’las interjected. His hypnotic tone, as always, making one see sense.

Tiene sighed heavily. Compromise, she decided on that much. Tell them her findings, that should sate their curiosity and calm their worries where she was concerned. “Alright,” she said turning to face them all. “Take a seat, I will tell you what I found out.”

Calmly, she told them she had met the Betrayer and another demonised elf, by the name of Arcaena. She assured Emmek, they were  _not_  feeding the Sin’dorei nor Night Elves to the demons. He grunted at the news, but somehow did not look entirely convinced.

The ritual to become one was gruelling and not all survived. Infact,  _hundreds_  had died during the transition. They had either went mad and had to be killed by their peers, or they became psychotic and again, the peers had to take them down. The process began by them killing a demon single handedly. If they managed that much, they then had to eat it’s still-beating heart.

Her friends cringed at that scrap of intel, all except Lexie, who of course ate hearts on a daily basis, although not demon ones.

The demonic essence would course through the victor’s veins, taking over and imbuing them with many demonic abilities. In due course, their bodies would change and start to take on the apprearance of said demons.

The so-called demons Emmek had referred to were her people and some of Thil’las’. The elves were being transformed. They were becoming like Illidan himself. Demon hunters. They had progressed through the transformation and were training to fight as Illidari, Illidan’s personal army.

She explained how Illidan’s path was chosen for him when Sargeras, the fallen titan, had made him witness the future and how the Legion would earn ultimate supremacy, razing it’s way through the universe. Illidan’s will was too strong for them to make him conform, and so he began his own crusade, having to overcome many obstacles and endure some failures along the way. In order to infiltrate them more, he had to obey their commands, when prudent. Deception of the Legion had been the name of his game. A game she too, knew well, albeit on a smaller scale.

When she finished relating the story, she looked at their faces. Scary Lexie, dumbstruck Emmek and impassive Thil’las.  _Nothing new there then_ , she thought. Until...

“Aw no ye dinnae!” Emmek spat. The other two’s expressions gave away the fact they had all cottoned on to Tiene’s train of thought.

“You may not survive Tiene, and what would you have achieved then?” Thil’las said in his usual calm manner.

She waited for Lexie to add her opinion, but nothing was forth-coming. The undead just stared at her.

“Im sure I will get through it,” Tiene said eventually, not one hundred percent sure she believed herself.

“No lass! Absolutely  _not_! Ah  _forbid_  it!” Emmek was shaking, his eyes huge and determined.

Lexie put her arm round the dwarf’s shoulders. He flinched and looked up at her, utterly astonished at the gesture. Lexie looked down at him. “It’s no use, Emmek. She had made her decision.” She turned to look back at her friend. “Haven’t you, Tiene?”

Emmek had quietened. Tiene could see by the way his beard was twitching, he was biting his bottom lip, trying to stem off an outburst of emotion. So much for compromise. Her friends were far too wise for her to fool them.

Thil’las placed a hand over Tiene’s. She looked into his silver eyes. “We are all moulded by our pasts, and you my friend, have had more than your fair share of sorrow and loss. I will not try to dissuade you, but know that I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

“Me too,” Lexie said, still holding Emmek’s shoulders. “But you knew that anyway,” she shrugged.

Emmek was struggling to accept the awful revelation, but he knew there was no use trying to persuade Tiene of an alternative. He had realised as she was telling them about the trials of the demon hunters, it was the very reason she had insisted on coming along with the squad. As always, Tiene Firefury planned well ahead and never wavered from her chosen path. He inched forward. Pushing Thil’las hand away from Tiene’s he replaced it with his own, patting the back of her hand. “Aye, that goes fur me too lass, and nae doo’t yer freen’s back hame. Though they wull worry. Loads!”

She hugged the stocky dwarf, then pulled her other two friends into the hug. How was she so lucky to have such good friends?

Before she made the journey back to the temple, she sat and wrote four letters – one to Louvel, one to Fyn, Brett and finally her saddest one of all, to Lor’themar. Each consisted of relatively the same information, advising them of her decision. But Lor’themar’s of course, was a little more personal...

 

_Dearest Lor’themar, my brother_

_I have reached Outland with my fellow Blades and we have arrived in Shadowmoon Valley. You no doubt know the significance of this destination and who resides here in the Black Temple. I know you are sceptical about Illidan Stormrage, the Betrayer, but I have met him and he is not what you think._

_He looks like a demon yes, but his drive and motivation is pure, I promise you. Had Kael’thas remained by his side, you would not have been disappointed in your monarch, of this I am certain._

_Illidan is fighting against the Legion, but his tactics up to now had caused great consternation for his people. Know thy enemy, that is his way, to be prepared, and I believe him, wholeheartedly. So, I have to inform you, that I will be joining his army. It is the only way for me, brother, and I hope you do not think ill of me for choosing this path. As you have said yourself, we must all walk the road we are given with such dignity as we can muster, each to our own glory or demise.**_

_You have been in my life since I can remember dear Lor’themar, and I have always thought of you as much a brother to me as Duthan and Inaris were, so believe me when I say I will love you always. I am so proud of you and I know you will lead our people to greatness again._

_Look to the skies brother, one day I will be there. Until then, belono sil’aru, belore’dorei*._

_Your sister_

_Tiene_

 

She stared for a while at the letter, reading and re-reading her words. The thought that perhaps she would not survive the coming trial weighed heavily on her. She simply  _had_  to get through this. Whether or not she would see Lor’themar again was something she could not allow herself to dwell upon, although she would have loved nothing more than to be giving him a big hug right now. She sighed and folded the letter into it’s envelope. With the four letters in hand, she left the inn and strolled along to the mailbox. Who would have thought letters to her friends, mentor and brother would be so hard to let slip into the mailbox. Perhaps it was because it heralded finality.

She stared up at the sky, watching the never-ending meteors as they carved their way through lsour infused clouds towards the arid land. How she missed the beauty of her home. She missed her life, as it  _should_  have been. The Legion had ripped everything from her, it had broken her heart and had near destroyed her through grief. She glanced in the direction of the Black Temple and it’s resident Lord.  _He_  offered some hope. A small light at the end of a very dark tunnel, but a light nonetheless.

Her three comrades came to stand beside her. Theirs was a bond she would miss also. Emmek and his grouchy little moods which could melt into full belly-laughs where his little beady eyes would sparkle from beneath his bushy eyebrows. Brave and loyal to the end, that was Emmek.

Thi’las, the utterly dedicated assassin with a very calm and cool persona. His voice could lull you to sleep if he spoke more than two minutes, though his piercing whistles would wake you in an instant. A tiny smirk played at the corner of her mouth as she remembered the first time she heard it. That was the day Emmek got caught by his britches on a metal pole during their training.

And Lexie. Her dear friend who started off as a young girl who thought the Firefurys were legends. Well, Tiene’s parents were at least. She soon became a good friend, who tried to warn her of their guild master, then spent months dodging his henchmen’s daggers until they gave up looking. Now, she was an undead, existing, not living, yet with a heart as big, pure and capable of truly loving, as any person Tiene knew.

One more sigh, and the letters slipped from her fingers into the mailbox.

She was ready for her greatest challenge to date. She was ready to follow the Lord of Outland. To become part of his Illidari and fight boldly by his side. Tiene Firefury would survive the metamorphosis, she would grow stronger, fiercer and she would triumph. Then, and only then, would she transform, one final time.

She hugged her friends but refrained from prolonging the goodbyes. A dwarf, a night elf and an undead stood helpless as she whispered, ” _Onas thuash d’aresh, lso o’doreu.”_

They would never see her as Tiene Firefury again.

* * *

 

* Belono sil’aru, belore’dorei – Shoulder your burdens well, child of the sun.

** Excerpt from In The Shadow of The Sun, by Sarah Pine


	45. Metamorphosis

* * *

The dog-like beast circled the summoning circle it was contained in. The huge head, consisting of mainly jaw with three-inch long serated teeth, slavered drool laden with phosphorescent fel. The almond-shaped eyes, a fiery amber with vertical slits, oozed hate and an insatiable hunger for the kill. Spines like that of a giant porcupine, served as a mane that rattled and clacked as the beast shook its head in rage and frustration. Its muscles rippled as it slunk about the circle, emanating the sheer power and unlimited stamina of the creature.

Tiene watched it pacing back and forth, demented by its incarceration. It snapped and growled at the slightest movement nearby or shadow that passed overhead. It was about twice the size of her and at least ten times stronger.  _An imp would have been better_ , she thought as she looked with envy at the neighbouring circle. Another sin’dorei had come to join the ranks of the Lord of Outland. He was bigger and stronger than Tiene too, yet  _he_  got the imp!

“Good luck,” she called over.

The elf looked surprised by the comment. He glanced at Tiene’s quarry, then grinned. “You will need more luck than me, I think,” he said, half laughing. “You should have been smarter when summoning it.”

She whimpered, a wry smile on her lips.  _You’re not wrong there_ , she thought.

Footfalls from behind her made her turn. Arcaena came to her side. The one-time night elf seemed to have softened towards Tiene.  _That_ , at least, was a relief indeed. This trial she had to face was unnerving. For all she had fought demons before, she had always been part of a group. She had never tackled the foul things alone before. She glanced back at the blood elf with the imp.

“Wish I had  _his_  demon,” she muttered.

“Do you?” Arcaena smiled in the lop-sided way Tiene had seen her do before.

“Yes.  _This_  thing – ” she pointed to the felhunter. “- will best me for sure. I fear I have failed before I have begun.”

Arcaena walked around Tiene and stood with her back to the blood elf who was now tormenting his imp, thus blocking his view of the blonde. “We each summon a demon which represents our nature, our character and our strengths. Or, if you are unlucky...” she glanced over her shoulder to the male elf then back at Tiene again, “...your worst trait.”

Tiene wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed by this, for she did not realise she had so much in common with a foul, slobbering felhunter.

Arcaena continued smiling as she explained further. “The imp is an easy option, and that speaks of the elf’s own nature. He is sarcastic, thinks himself clever but will readily flee a fight with the lame excuse it is so he can fight demons another day. He will not remain by your side in battle, but he can provide good defence in the art of pyromancy. He will blow a few up and set some on fire, but he will be gone from the battleground before the smoke has cleared. That, Tiene, is not  _your_  nature.”

“With respect, you do not know me. How can you say such a thing?”

The demon hunter resumed her original position on Tiene’s left. “I know this by the demon you have summoned.”

“What on Azeroth do I have in common with that thing?”

“I would say you have strived to be the best of your chosen class and worked hard towards being top of the tree in your guild? The felhunter too is driven to be the best it can be and so it is powerful. You used magic to cloak yourself rather than the traditional ways of a rogue. A Felhunter has highly attuned magical ability, maybe that too is a link.”

Tiene shook her head. “No, stealthing is the only magic I know, my brother, who was a warlock, taught me how.”

Arcaena shrugged. “It nonetheless leaves a signature of its use on you. That is how my Lord saw you yesterday. He can sense magic from a long way off, and it is perhaps stronger in you than you realise.”

Tiene shrugged then. It seemed highly unlikely to her, but she knew the mystical concealment was detectable by those attuned to the ways of magic.

The demon hunter continued her assessment of Tiene’s compatibility to the Felhunter. “You initially came here alone, more as like to save your comrades from capture, but mostly because of your drive to be better than you currently are. That said, you fight well in a group and felhunters are also pack animals, strategy, skill and cunning abundant. That is what your demon says about you, Tiene.”

A shout of triumph came from the male blood elf. They looked over as he stood over the body of the imp. He was a little singed and smoky from the imp’s firebolts, but other than that he seemed unhurt.

“You must eat its heart while it still beats,” Arcaena shouted over.

The elf nodded and proceeded to cut open the imp’s chest. He reached in and extracted a bloody, pumping mess. With one glance over at his spectators, he lifted the heart to his mouth and bit deep into the organ. He was gagging as he chewed, but persevered and swallowed the first bite.

Tiene turned away. If she managed to kill this beast, she would have to endure tasting a foul, fel infused piece of flesh too. She stared at the Felhunter in the summoning circle again. It was taking her a long time to pluck up the nerve to step into that circle.

“What was his name?” Arcaena asked softly.

Tiene blinked and looked up at her. “Who?”

“Your husband.”

Tiene exhaled sharply. It was a question she had not expected. “Camnath,” she answered, her eyes misting at the mere mention of his name.

“He was handsome, no doubt?”

“Very.”

“I can tell you loved him very deeply. You are doing this for him, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then go in there and kill it, Tiene. Your love will give you strength.”

“I hope so.”

“It will. I know this, for I felt the same when it was my time, though I was not yet married to the man I loved back then.”

Tiene’s brow furrowed. “You married  _after_  becoming a demon hunter?”

Arcaena smiled. “I did.”

Tiene thought back to other day and the way Illidan had held Arcaena. She looked towards the top of the temple. There, standing with arms folded, ponytail blowing in the wind and wings closed firmly, stood the Lord of Outland, surveying the rituals below. His gaze seemed fixed on where they stood. She turned and faced Arcaena again. “Illidan is your husband, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” the demon hunter smiled.

Screams of agony came from the imp-killing elf. Tiene just caught a glimpse of him writhing on the ground when Arcaena blocked her view. “Do it  _now,_  Tiene. For Camnath.”

She turned and looked at the Felhunter. “For you, my love,” she whispered, hoping Camnath’s spirit heard her. She stepped into the circle, daggers drawn. The beast faced her, its eyes narrowed and pupils dilated. Its haunches shuddered as it prepared to pounce at its prey.

Tiene crouched, anticipating the split second it would attack. As it lunged forward she shadow-stepped and materialised behind it. Turning, she projected herself forward in a somesault, slicing the creature’s back with her blades. Its massive head reared as she passed over, its spines whipping her legs. As she landed she stumbled, rolling over in the dirt. She just had time to assess the wounds inflicted. Already huge welts were rising on her skin and the sting from them intensified instantly.

Her eyes looked up. The Felhunter was charging at her. Quickly she moved into stealth and rolled away from its path. It skidded to a halt, its behaviour symbolising its bewildement at its quarry having suddenly vanished.

A low gutteral growl came from deep in its throat and the gigantic head turned slowly towards her cowering figure. Deflated, she realised the beast could still sense her, whether through sight or smell, she knew not, but it was not fooled by her stealth. Her legs were burning and she winced as she brought them under her to push herself up.

She was going to have to think of something fast or this beast was going to win. The wounds from the spines were now excruciating. This had not been expected, such a quick defeat. She cried out, but more in frustration than pain.

The Felhunter sprang at her, it’s leap insanely high. She fell back onto her knees and prepared for the beast to land on her. Just before it made contact she brought the heels of her hands up and struck it in the chest with every bit of power she had left. The creature flopped onto her, still as a rock. The move had taken nearly all the strength she had left and the weight of the Felhunter was making breathing hard for her. She heard Arcaena shouting her name, but she was unable to answer. Her vision was wavering, she thought she was about to black out.

Suddenly the dead weight was lifted from her. She blinked, trying to regain focus. Illidan stood over her, holding the Felhunter by its mane of spines. He cast it down to her right. Arcaena was at Tiene’s head, lifting it onto her lap. She brushed her hair aside and tapped her cheeks to ensure she was still conscious. Tiene looked up at the female demon hunter and managed a nod.

Her eyes were drawn back to Illidan. He beckoned her. “You must finish it,” he said pointing to the stiff creature. “It still breathes.”

With a little help from Arcaena, Tiene got to her feet and staggered over to the paralysed body of the Felhunter. She took a few deep breaths then plunged her dagger into its throat, yanking it down towards its chest. The effort left her drained.

Arcaena eased her back from the corpse. Tiene watched silently as Illidan knelt down and tore open the Felhunter’s chest. The dry cracking noise as it’s ribs were pulled apart echoed round the summoning circle . The Lord of Outland thrust his hand into the cavity and pulled out the creature’s heart. He handed it to Tiene.

Hand shaking she accepted it from him, and put it towards her mouth. She almost dry retched just from the smell of it, but kept in her mind why she was doing this. Closing her eyes, she envisioned her beloved Camnath on their wedding day. His handsome face and beautiful smile as he led her in dance, gave her the courage to do the necessary. She bit deep into the pulsing flesh. She could feel it throbbing against her cheek then she heard the gut-wrenching pop and squelch as she tore a chunk away. The texture and taste was repugnant but she kept on chewing until it was enough of a mush to swallow.

“More,” Illidan said.

She did as instructed, the taste becoming slightly more bearable with each bite. When all that was left was the cartoid and pulmonary arteries and veins, she cast it away. She was exhausted. The wounds from the creature’s spines had done a lot of damage and were continuing to drain her energy, like a tornado sucking everything around it into its vortex.

Her trial was not over yet. The next pain she felt was a hundred times worse than that of the spines. Her entire body went into spasms, her fingers and toes flexing open and shut. She clasped her head and crouched over into a foetal position. It was as if fel poison was replacing the blood in her veins, she could literally feel it coursing through her body. And it burned!  _Sweet_   _Belore!_  How it burned! She threw herself back up into a kneeling position, screaming as it continued to ingest her.

Her eyes teared up as she stared at her hands. They were malformed, becoming claws before her very eyes, the nails unnaturally long.

She inhaled sharply and screamed again, this time louder as she felt her forehead split. Blood ran down into her eyes which she tried to rub away with her clawed hands. Her fingers touched hard protrusions from where the cracks had appeared in her forehead. She could feel them pushing up, her entire skull feeling as though it was being pulled up and reshaped with them.

The next scream to leave her mouth did not sound like her at all. It sounded more like the howl of the Felhunter. She fell forward again. Now her vertebrae started to crack and huge incisions ran down her back. Black needle-like spines forced their way through her flesh, writhing as they snaked their way out. Something else was striving to emerge. She heard her skin rip, like thick canvas and she felt more blood trickle then flow rapidly down from her shoulders to the base of her spine. Now her breathing was seriously laboured and she believed she was going to die from this horrific mutation.

A loud snap and something like a standard unfurling reached her ears. Then the coolest of air surrounded her. Gasping she looked to her left. A shadow on the ground. Her shadow. With horns and wings! Looking to her right she saw the shadow again.

Her metamorphosis was almost complete. The pain had not lessened however and again she screamed. The fel was still settling into all the new appendages and mutations. Her body simply could not take anymore. Last thing she saw was the symbols of the summoning circle come up to meet her as her face hit the grey-green dirt.

 

* * *

* * *

 

For three days and nights, Tiene endured horrific nightmares. Demons slashed and battered their way through city after city, town after town, village after village. Bodies of the inhabitants lay isshapen and burned, some turning to ash as the winds stirred and carried them over the scorched earth.

She cried out in her delirium, begging for the destruction to stop. The demons did not listen, they just kept coming. Hundreds, thousands of them.

Occasionally she woke and her eyes caught sight of a demonised elf by her side. He looked up at her and smiled then went back to what he was doing. She glanced down. With a long sharp needle he was etching a design on her skin. Some kind of runic symbols. She lost consciousness before she could ask why he was doing this to her.

She relived the horror of Quel’thalas’ destruction and the loss of her beloved Camnath. Then she saw her home rebuilt, only for the marauding demons to burn it to the ground again. This time no-one was left to rebuild it. The horror replayed over and over again.

On the fourth day, she opened her eyes. She felt...better. Slowly she sat up in the bunk. How she had got there she had no idea, but obviously someone had brought her to it. Perhaps it was even Illidan himself, or Arcaena.

There was no sign of the demon hunter she had glimpsed now and again beside her bed. His handiwork however, remained. She marvelled at the markings on her skin. They were etched on her arms, shoulders and ... she blanched as she checked...on her breasts too.  _Maybe just as well I was unconscious_ , she thought.

It then dawned on her, her hands were not the taloned appendages she had witnessed in the summoning circle. They were almost, normal.  _Almost_. Certainly they had changed, but mainly in skin texture. It was rougher, but otherwise not much difference in shape, maybe a little longer if anything.

Tentatively she raised her hands to her head. As her fingers touched the rough surface of horns she withdrew her hands immediately. So, the horns were real. Slowly, she touched them again. They were long, quite slender but rough and sharp, very sharp at the points. She could impale someone easily with these.

She tried to look behind her, but struggled doing so in the bunk. She slid her legs over the cot.  _Feet are the same_ , she noted as she pushed herself up. She stepped away from the edge of the bed. Her bones ached, unsurprisingly, and she automatically stretched and yawned.

A loud snap as she was midway through her stretch had her suddenly draw into herself. Then the air around her cooled and she saw the covers on the nearby cots ripple. Turning her head to her right, she caught sight of the unfurled demon-hide. She knew not whether to be happy or distraught by the transformation. She had entered into this pact, knowing full well what could happen, but still, now it was physical, she did not know how to feel. She was literally changed. And, she knew there was still one more thing to endure. With this in mind, she decided to take in all she could before the inevitable.

Still weak, she moved cautiously out of the chamber she was in. It opened into another one but this was enormous with doors and stairways leading away from it at various intervals.

Strange looking individuals busied themselves around little tables and braziers. They looked vaguely like the blue-coloured warriors she had seen fighting the demons, days before, but these were more sunken in appearance and stature. They kept themselves to themselves making strange little hand gestures, almost like holy men conveying a blessing.

She saw many demon hunters milling around also. Some looked as if they had been transformed for a long time going by their confident postures. Some were engaged in conversations and barely noticed her. Others eyed her with mild indifference as she shuffled past. She knew not where she was going, so she asked, “How do I get outside?”

One of the demon hunters grinned and pointed straight ahead. “Follow the passageway to the far right until the main stairwell, then go down there and you will see the courtyard.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. The demon hunter merely nodded then resumed his conversation with his colleagues.

With each step she was starting to feel a little stronger. That was not to say she wasn’t hungry. She was. She was ravenous. Only, she hoped there was something more palatable than felhunter heart on the menu.

Once outside, she inhaled deeply. For all the smell of sulphur premeated the air it was strangely welcoming compared to the air inside the chamber she had woken in. Out here, the smell of death was less intense. She saw more summoning circles, some empty, waiting for their next volunteers. A couple were occupied, a night elf in one and blood elf in the other, both fighting their demons valiantly. No imps for these two, but one was an arachnid type creature, the night elf deftly avoiding the web traps it shot at her. The other fought a terrorguard, an enormous cloven-hooved, winged demon which had the strength of twenty men. The blood elf paladin was doing extremely well in his fight with it though. Soon both had succeeded in their battles.

“You are up!” Arcaena’s voice startled her.

“Yes.” Tiene answered. “I am hungry.”

The demon hunter smiled. “Of course you are. Come, I will show where you can get something to eat.”

“Please say it is not demon steaks.”

Arcaena laughed. Her laughter was beautiful, soft just like a night elf, not at all scary like a demon. Tiene could not help but smile at the sound of it.

There was a little stall further along that served food. Tiene ate heartily, relishing the taste of hot boar meat in the rich gravy, which she greedily mopped up with chunks of thick bread. Arcaena sat with her as she enjoyed her meal. “You realise there is one final stage to perform?” Tiene nodded but kept eating .

“Then finish your meal and we will have it done.”

Tiene’s eating slowed. She had not expected it to be so soon. She had wanted to see so many things before the last part of the ritual. The demon hunter seemed to read her thoughts. “You will be surprised by how much better your view of the world will be once this is over.”

Swallowing the last of her gravy soaked bread, Tiene wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She glanced around her. Somehow, this seemed to be the part of the ritual she dreaded most. Apart from all the horrors in Shadowmoon valley – the demons, the green fire of fel and mutated creatures out in the land, there were so many beautiful things she feared she would never have the joy of seeing again. Such as her home first and foremost, the rich, bright colours of the landscape and regal structures of Silvermoon. The wide open lands to the south of Quel’thalas which had remained untouched by war and plague and the beautiful Auberdine in Kalimdor. She fought back the tears that threatened. There was no turning back now. Illidan had warned her of that. She was too far gone into the ritual to back out now. With a deep sigh she turned to Arcaena. “How is it done?”

“By your own hand, or someone else’s if you wish.”

“And how will it benefit me?”

“It is not necessary to have eyes to see, Tiene. Eyes can deceive. There are many skills which can help you identify things better and clearer than by mere vision. As a demon hunter, these skills are heightened. You will have a gift called spectral sight, Tiene. It enables you see things with unequalled clarity and also has the ability to detect demons which would be concealed from normal vision.”

It was mandatory and there was no use in delaying the necessary. She dropped her fork in her dish and stood up. “Let’s get this over with then.”

Arcaena rose and took a moment to look at Tiene. “You are a born fighter, Tiene, and you can be even greater. I believe you will rise in my husband’s ranks and achieve amazing things. Consider yourself like a butterfly, emerging from its chrysalis.”

The simile struck a resounding chord with Tiene and for a moment her heart beat so loud she was almost deafened by it.

Before long she found herself standing in a rune-bound circle, near to those for summoning the demons. Arcaena stood watch. “Your demon is contained by the markings on your skin Tiene, you will utilise its abilities as you progress, but it will always try to emerge as the stronger of you. You must fight it. Fight and win your inner battle, so you may succeed in the greater one with the Legion. Now, take you daggers.”

Tiene unsheathed the weapons and held them firmly at her sides. She was breathing deeply, remembering the metaphor Arcaena gave her.

“Join us Tiene. Be all you can be.”

As she drove the blades in, she forced herself not to scream. She twisted the blades twice then extracted them, her pierced green orbs on the tips. Dropping the blades, she felt the blood flowing over her cheeks. Arcaena gently wrapped some runecloth around the open sockets.

“You are demon hunter, Tiene. Now we train you.”


	46. Stolen Years & Silent Tears

* * *

Most training was actually done in battle as the bulk of demon hunters were already experienced soldiers, birthing the new Illidari with years of accumulated expertise and knowledge in their varied and specialised styles of fighting. They learned to hone their demonic abilities, however, both in and out of the battlegrounds.

Tiene found herself growing stronger and fiercer as each day passed. The demon hunter had an unequalled level of mobility, from jumping inordinately high to taking full flight. Their ability to dodge attacks with lightning speed was also unrivalled. Add to the mix, their debilitating eye beams that cut through enemies like the keenest of honed blades, and you were talking of a force to be truly reckoned with. Their strength, stamina and agility were boosted every time they consumed fragments of a demon soul, an invaluable source of sustenance which fed their inner demons, making them invincible.

Reports of Tiene’s feats on the battlefield soon reached the Lord of Outland’s ears. Her sharp intuition, focus and precise tactics had proved time and again to be pivotal in the successful and timeous slaughter of countless demons.

She found herself rapidly earning more respect with increasing numbers of demon hunters waiting to hear her orders. She never lost sight of who the ultimate leader was however, and this too was rewarded. The rank of Lieutenant was bestowed upon her and she stood side by side with Arcaena and Kayn Sunfury.

Time however, was running out for the Lord of Outland to maintain his command of the Black Temple. The humans, dwarves and elven nations, along with those of Horde affiliation were battling their way to the temple and it’s half elf half demon ruler. The other species joining the fight, which Tiene found out to be the blue creatures with horns, cloven feet and tails, were known as draenei. Her one-time monarch, Kael’thas, had been responsible for the crash landing of one of the ships belonging to the cosmic travellers, and it landed on isles just northwest of Kalimdor, called Azuremyst and Bloodmyst. They had joined the Alliance and fought side by side with them against the demons ...and Illidan.

“Look at them,” Illidan said, surveying the encroaching army from his viewpoint at the temple’s zenith. “They do not realise they are about to destroy the only chance they have of salvation against the Legion.”

“Why do they come for you?” Tiene asked as she stood beside the great demon hunter and his lieutenants.

“They are fools, Tiene, they do not see beyond their own arrogance and ignorance.”

“They have judged you wrongly, my love,” Arcaena threw in.

Illidan smiled at his wife, cupping her chin with his taloned hand. She cooed as she looked up at her husband, lightly nestling against his touch.

Kayn smirked awkwardly at Tiene. The demon hunters’ occasional show of affection for each other always made Kayn uncomfortable. He fidgeted from one foot to the other, keeping his gaze fixed on the approaching masses below.

“Illidari,” their Lord called, standing back from the edge. “We must take the fight to the source. You must go to Mardum and retrieve the sargerite keystone, it is the heart of my plan to defeat the Legion.”

Then, he uttered some ancient thalassian spell, casting a bolt to the back of the landing and a portal opened before the demon hunters. “Go now,” he said. “Do not fail, or the Legion will burn this world and all others. The keystone is also your only way to return to me at the Black Temple...”

“No! Illidan, we must stay and fight with you,” Arcaena protested.

“I will take care of these fools, Arcaena. You, along with our lieutenants must lead our demon hunters through Mardum.”

“Once we find this sargerite keystone, what then, Lord Illidan?” Tiene asked.

Illidan turned to face her. “We will then attack the demons in the very place they least expect. Their homeworld, Argus. Let  _them_ feel what it is like to watch their home  _burn_.”

It was a good plan. One however, that would need executed quickly. Illidan was indeed a formidable force but even he would not be able to hold off the numbers that approached the temple indefinitely. She feared for his safety, as did Arcaena.

“I am ready, my Lord,” she said standing straight. With Kayn beside her they ran through the portal followed quickly by their squads. Arcaena stayed behind just a few moments more and bade her husband farewell with a kiss. Soon she was through the portal and in Mardum with the others...

Beyond that, Tiene’s recollection of the events that followed were sketchy to say the least.

She managed to recall that in order to bring about the success of retrieving the keystone and returning to the temple to assist Lord Illidan, they needed to bolster their forces. There were three important factions they required and they needed summoned by opening gateways on Mardum. The three lieutenants split so they all proceeded to one of the gateways each. Recollections after that grew more vague.

Ashtongue...draenei kin, Shivarra, six armed sabre-bearing female demons and Coilskar, serpent-like sea-dwelling creatures, formerly high elves ,now known more commonly as naga. They were all allies of the Lord of Outland and vital to the recovery of the sargerite keystone and aiding Lord Illidan at the Black Temple. But...

_Camnath..._

She could hear the sounds of warglaives clashing against swords and polearms as they fought through the endless run of demons as they approached their goal. Bodies of demons lay gutted at their feet as the army of Illidari pressed on.

_Camnath..._

A long ardous battle ensued, she was injured but not to the point she could not continue to fight. The demon was female, arachnid in origin but demonised to an even more hideous creature with wings like spider webs and huge blade-like antlers, she was hard to bring down. Essential nonetheless, as she was keeper of the sargerite keystone and fought fiercely to protect it. The Illidari were relentless and would fight to their last breath if need be for their lord and master...mist coloured memories...

_Camnath..._

Someone called out the keystone was theirs and all were to move forward. She saw a portal form, blinded by the green swirling mass, they pressed forward and were shocked to find their lord had been bested.

_Camnath..._

Green clad warriors with arced weapons stood guard over the now felblood encased Illidan. Arcaena wailed and shouted for the Illidari to save their lord. They tried, but one of those green clad warriors stopped them effortlessly and bound them all to felblood prisons.

_Camnath!_

She heard that same voice from... _how long ago_? How much time had spanned? Her outlook from the green fel casing shattered. She was free!

Shards of the felblood lay strewn over the floor of a huge room, where she noticed more of the green prisms still stood within recesses. Figures were encased, prisoners. A voice, not entirely unknown to her, spoke from the far side of the cell. “My love,” it whimpered.

Tiene turned towards the voice and saw a familiar figure. A few moments later, recognition struck. Arcaena! Then it all started to come back. She watched as Arcaena collected pieces of the felblood casing and stored them in a small pouch on her belt.

The demon hunter looked at Tiene. “We have to find my husband,” she pleaded.

Tiene nodded and was about to move forward when another voice from the shadows spoke.

“The Legion has entered Azeroth. Help us, demon hunters!” The voice belonged to a green clad warrior. The same one who imprisoned them! Tiene was automatically poised for a fight, but the warrior merely broke the bolts that held the demon hunters’ warglaives. “Free your comrades and help fight the Legion.” Then the warrior left the cell.

Tiene glanced back at Arcaena, still slightly confused. Arcaena hissed,“Maiev Shadowsong,” she explained inclining her chin towards the door where the warrior had left. “She has hunted Illidan for years, hellbent on capturing him.”

“Why has she released us then?”

“You heard, Tiene. The Legion has finally emerged fully on Azeroth. The fight is more than the people can cope with.  _Now_ , they need us.  _Now_  they will see the error of their ways.”

“Then  _now_  we will have Lord Illidan  _back_!” Tiene growled. “And I want  _that_  bitch’s head!” She pointed towards the door.

She was surprised by Arcaena’s soft laughter. “You will have to join the queue for that, Tiene.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

That, had been almost two years ago, having followed ten years encased in felblood within the Vault of the Wardens on the Broken Isles. So much had happened since the demon hunters’ release.

The Betrayer, Lord of Outland, Lord of Shadow, Lord of the Illidari, Illidan Stormrage, now imbued with the power of the naaru had become the saviour of Azeroth. Granted there had been others who helped. Massively.

In particular the woman from another world, Sarah Metcalfe. She had vouched for Lord Illidan since first she stepped on Azeroth. She, along with her lover the Archmage Khadgar had rallied forces of the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor in the fight against the Legion. Oddly, Sarah had been absent for almost a year and a half during the war with the Legion, and that had been Khadgar’s doing, for he had sent her home to her planet, Earth, for some reason Tiene could not fathom. Thank Belore for Arcaena.

Had it not been for Arcaena transmuting those pieces of felblood prism she collected from their incarceration in the Vault of the Wardens with shards of the sargerite keystone, Sarah may never have returned and the war could still be raging on. Indeed they could all have been suspended within the Vault still. Illidan could have remained lost in the Twisting Nether, but it was Sarah who rescued him. He had returned to Azeroth even more formidable, now infused with the power of a celestial being known as the naaru. And, Sarah and the Archmage were now destined to be parents, so the earthling had remained in Azeroth.

Tiene smiled a little as she thought of the man who had returned with Sarah. He had been the earth woman’s best friend. Drew Stewart. He reminded Tiene of Camnath in many ways. Perhaps the black hair, although it was considerably shorter than her husband’s had been. His mouth, full and inviting, was very much the same. And something about the way he looked at her sometimes, made her heart ache. So much so she seduced him in the forests of Azsuna. A small laugh escaped her at the memory.

She glanced over at Arcaena, nestled against her beloved Illidan. It was almost comical seeing the great demon lord sitting under a tree, one arm behind his head and the other round his woman. She had never seen him so relaxed.

She looked out over the hills just beyond Stormwind, towards the north. She so wanted to return home, to fulfil her promise to Camnath, but now, as time had passed, she realised that a demon hunter never stopped being just that, even in death. Her soul would continue to fight demons in the Twisting Nether, and so could never be with her beloved. And for all she still had friends out there somewhere, and of course a brother, she did not want to carry on any more. She was tired. It was time. But the sadness of knowing her ultimate goal would not be achieved, was overwhelming. She somehow felt utterly alone.

“Tiene,” she jumped as Illidan’s voice sounded behind her. She scrambled to her feet and bowed with respect. He laughed deep down in his chest. “There is no need for such formality on this day, Tiene.”

She simply nodded, keeping her gaze downcast. A taloned forefinger forced her to look up at the Lord of ... where now exactly, Azeroth? Arcaena stood beside him. “I know your story,” Illidan said. “And I know the fate of the demon hunter.”

Tiene, if she could have cried, would have, but all she could manage was a bite of her lip and a quivering chin.

“Do not be sad, sin’dorei. Your place is by your husband’s side.”

“It is what I wish more than anything, Lord, but I know it is not possible.”

Illidan smiled, his fangs flashing just a little as the sun reflected on his face. “Many things have changed, Tiene. Including this...” he pointed to the naaru sigil on his forehed. “I will not lie to you, I could use your skills in the coming battles against the Void, for you are without doubt one of my best. But, I know it is not what you want, nor need. So, I will bestow a gift on you, sin’dorei.”

Tiene watched as the sigil grew brighter until it’s radiance was near blinding and she attempted to turn from the light. Illidan’s hand held the back of her head so she could not, and his other hand hovered over her face, partially shielding her from the glare. She felt him draw her to him. Her entire body felt like a torrent was washing over it. Gradually, the light faded and he released his hold of her. She did not understand what he had done, but something felt different.

“Go now, Tiene. Fly north, go home.  _Be_ with your husband,” he said.

Then she realised what he had done. Overcome, she struggled to catch her breath. Arcaena stepped forward and hugged her. “Go, Tiene. Be happy.”

Tiene turned to leave, but looked at Illidan Stormrage one final time. “Thank you, my Lord. Thank you so much!” Then she unfurled her wings and flew like the wind.

The warm draughts carried her high and she spun and looped her way overland. Soon, looming ahead was the daunting Blackrock Mountain, shimmering into view on the horizon. Its fiery lava streams crept slowly down its slopes and into the surrounding river of fire. She looped her way round the peak and back on course to the north.

The snowy peaks of Dun Morogh offered a vast contrast and the crystal whites sparkled as the sun’s rays sprinkled the landscape like glitter. She swooped down, startling the boar and the snow leopards that roamed the plains. Some of the residents staring up at her as she flew over the village of Kharanos were greeted by her waving. One or two dwarven hands responded likewise. Up, up she rose again and over the great gates of Ironforge, spinning as she flew over the mountain fortress and onwards to the Wetlands.

She weaved her way over all the swamplands. She flew low again and scuttled some of the murlocs on the western shores. She laughed as she saw them hurriedly slip-slapping on their webbed feet, paddling across streams to get away and shaking angry little fists at her.

Soaring, she rose up again and over Thandol Span into Arathi Highlands. The rich foliage of shrubs and grasses were rippling in the late autumn breeze making the land look like a green sea in constant motion. She chased raptors, spiders and even spun a few fire elementals as she passed over the sacred stone circles.

Briefly she made a stop at Tarren Mill, now run by the forsaken. She made a purchase after an in depth conversation with the apothecary, before taking off again on her journey home.

She rose up again in a massive loop and over into Hinterlands. She caught sight of the Owlbeasts and dove down, weaving through the feathered creatures causing them to roar and flail at her. She laughed again and embraced the mountain air as it brushed through her hair and rippled the demon-hide wings.

Onwards again through Eastern Plaguelands, over the Alliance towers at Crown Guard, Lights Shield and Eastwall. She skimmed past Plaguewood and the giant fungal forest with Stratholme at its north-western tip. Soaring, she turned east and up through Quel’lithien Lodge, where some of her people still resided, though bitter from days gone by.

Next the scarred lands of Ghostlands. The dark purples and blues had not changed and even the Dead Scar, remnants of Arthas and the scourge attacks of long ago, still painted the land in shades of sorrow. Yet strangely, Tiene did not feel that sorrow now. She was going home. She detoured slightly to pass over Farstrider Enclave in remembrance of Duthan and Lor’themar’s earlier years. She hovered for a while above the building before skimming across the lake, letting her fingers cause ripples on the water’s surface. Then, up to her final destination.

Eversong Woods. It’s glorious colours, warm and inviting, seemed to reach up to embrace the demon hunter as she crossed over the meadows. She had one more stop before she was done.

Flying over Silvermoon, she landed on a balcony at Sunfury Spire. She knew this was Lor’themar’s study, and she dared to go inside. She checked if the room was vacant. It was, but she would not dally. Quickly, she took a sheet of paper and a quill, then wrote some final words. She blew gently on the ink to dry it, then from her pouch, she removed the little painted wooden trinket she had carried with her for years. A sound came from the corridor and quickly she scooted out onto the balcony again, placing the note on the wall with the trinket providing enough weight to prevent it blowing away.

As the door to his study opened, she took flight. She had planned to just fly away, but could not bring herself to leave without one last look. She hovered for a while and watched as her brother took his seat at his desk and started his day with quill in hand. He dutifully read each document and either signed it putting it to one side, or simply stacked it with others still to be considered. She would have loved to have swept down and hugged him, but the farewell would have then been a hundred times harder. She blew him a silent kiss and then rose in the air to head out towards the meadows.


	47. Forever … If Need Be

* * *

The journey for revenge had taken so much longer than she had anticipated. It hadn't helped that she had been imprisoned for a decade within a felblood cocoon, but finally she was here. Home. Her beloved Quel’thalas.

Standing now at the very place she wanted to be, her heart trembled nervously. Imprisoned for a decade, then fighting for another two years after that, she could not help but fear he had grown weary of waiting for her. The thought that his spirit was no longer waiting in the meadows, frightened her. She was unable to cry any more, since becoming a demon hunter, that form of release was taken from her, but the back of her throat burned fiercely from the unshed tears.

She had done what she had needed to do. Justice had been served, and her true love had been avenged. The source which had stripped her of her family and her husband was eliminated. Now it was time to join her loved ones.

Not a day had passed, even when she had been suspended in time within the felblood, that the sweet visions of Camnath did not cross her mind. As always,he had kept her focused.

When finally released, by Maiev Shadowsong , the very one who had imprisoned her and her comrades a decade before, Tiene’s final battle had begun.

As she stood in the meadow, she let her mind revisit some of the more recent events again. Fighting alongside the thousands of Azerothians who battled against the Legion, she had met Drew Stewart, a man from another dimension, who reminded her of her beloved Camnath. He had been nice to her, sweet in fact. Unlike Sauren, she did not feel laying with this man was a betrayal to her love for her husband. It was merely comfort, affection, a need for intimacy. She was sure Camnath would understand.

It was on their last night together she confided in Drew. He had held her as she told him about her father, Inaris, Duthan and Lor’themar. Of her loss when her home had fallen to Arthas, the scourge and Dar’Khan. She told him everything, even the time she spent at the Crimson Blade as Sauren’s pet, and what the beast had done to her friends.

But, her love for Camnath and their long wait to be together, had Drew holding on to her tightly. As their story had unfolded, he had been moved to tears. He’d tried to shield them from her, but she felt the dampness on her brow as he’d held her. The love they shared that night was more of a bittersweet farewell than anything. He had to return to his home, and she had somewhere she longed to be, too. He therefore knew she would not be there when he saw fit to return.

It had been a poignant farewell. To think she had found him a little annoying the first few times she had met him. She smiled at the memory. He turned out to be one of the nicest men she had ever met –  _so_  like her beloved Camnath. Even his smile reminded her of her husband. Her heart went out to him a little, for she saw how he’d looked at Sarah, the woman who was the first to come to Azeroth from Earth. Sarah’s eyes were only for the Archmage Khadgar, however.

Life did throw up some strange little coincidences, she mused. It had taken some time for her to realise this Khadgar had been the same man from Karazhan all those years ago, when she had been there on a mission with the Crimson Blade. How different he looked now. Younger, refined and blissfully happy to be with his Sarah. Arcaena confided in her that the Archmage and Sarah were soon to be parents. Illidan had sensed the child when Sarah had pulled him from the Twisting Nether. She smiled.

Then the all too familiar burn in the back of her throat hit again. She hated herself for being envious. How she wished she and Camnath had been blessed with a family. If only they had had more time. Yet, she should not feel sad, for she would be reunited with her husband soon. She would once again experience the most wonderful feeling in the world... true love. If indeed, he was still waiting for her.

The soft breeze caressed her cheeks and for a moment she thought she heard a voice whisper over the meadow. Her demon vision scanned the grasses and trees, searching for a sign. Was he here? Was he still waiting?

She glanced at the vial in her hand. The apothecary promised it would be quick with very little pain. She laughed quietly to herself, knowing that would not be the case. She expected pain, but she would welcome it, as it would be her last. With one final look towards the Sunfury Spire and a silent, heartfelt farewell to her brother Lor’themar, she popped the cork of the small vial and drank its contents, before letting the tiny bottle slip from her fingers.

In her other hand she held the lock of Camnath’s hair. Her thumb stroked the ebony hair and she lifted it to her lips. “Please find me, my love,” she whispered. “I am ready to join you now.” A dull ache spread from her belly up, the first signs of the poison doing its work.

The breeze stirred again, sweeping past her, playing with her hair. It rustled through the flora and the trees before finally washing over a large flowering shrub to her left. A soft smile curved her lips as butterflies rose from the shrub in their thousands. They came towards her, circled once, then flew towards the spires of Silvermoon and back over the meadow.

A pain like inner fire suddenly hit her, and she flinched, clutching at her stomach as she did so. Another flared, and another. It now felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside, out. They were rapidly becoming more painful, causing her to stagger and spasm frequently. She desperately scanned the meadow for the kaleidoscope of tiny wings, but they had disappeared.

“Camnath!” she breathed. “Find me.  _Please_!” Her bottom lip quivered at the thought she was maybe going to the Nether alone after all.

Her legs gave way and she fell to the ground, cushioned by the soft, vibrant grass. Her limbs were now numb, a sensation like pins and needles glimmered over them and her demon-hide wings spasmed beneath her, stirring the small seedlings where she lay. Her breathing started to hitch.

_ An image of a young girl watching a lynx stalking a deer, materialised in front of her. A bolt of fire, the deer collapsed. Behind the girl a handsome warlock, smiling at her, teasing her. Her brother. The girl stomped past him, furious, as he laughed gently... _

_ Suddenly she was being swirled around by another. One with fair hair and a smile to die for. He too was the girl’s brother. He was a Ranger. Beside him stood his friend and oddly enough, the girl’s adopted brother. They were looking at the young boy beside her. The ebony haired elf who trained with her in the Students of Shadow guild. The boy with the beautiful mouth who stole a kiss from her in the meadow. _

Clouds _..._

She could feel the life draining from her body. The pain was acute and yet strangely sublime. It was also surprisingly calming, as if all the burdens of the world were being finally removed from her shoulders. Her spectral vision was failing now, but movement coming from ahead held her attention.

_ The memories unfolded once more and the girl was in her father’s workshop, trying on armour he had made her. It was exquisite. He was a master craftsman. He hugged her for the longest time... _

_ Next she saw the girl at a wedding, she attended with her father and brothers and the ebony haired boy. Her lips managed a small smile as she recalled how handsome he was and how he almost kissed her when they stood on the beach... Oh he was angry when they were interrupted. _

Mist briefly covered her memories...

_...and the visions of years later opened to a celebration. The girl, no more a youngling and naïve, was preparing for her own wedding. The ebony haired elf was waiting at the altar for her... _

The image was swallowed once more by the clouds of misty memory.

She tried to focus. Gradually, the movement neared. The kaleidoscope had returned, moving towards her. Within, another shape loomed. A slow steady stride and long ebony hair rippling behind him.

She smiled slowly, the effort almost too much. Her heart had slowed to a whimper, its rythmn melting into the air. From her body, bright green wisps snaked and twirled, rising high to meet the kaleidoscope. They fluttered around her in their thousands, like a rippling multi-coloured voile, absorbing the ghostly tendrils, drawing them from her.

Her vision, though fading rapidly now, just caught sight of his hand reaching through the mass of tiny wings. The butterflies parted, swirling as they rose on high, and the face she loved so deeply came towards her, his beautiful mouth smiling. “Tiene. My love,” he whispered.

A sound like the sigh of hundred distant voices left her lips for the last time.

As the kaleidoscope rose from her still form to take flight over the meadow, the body they left behind was no more a demon hunter. The demonic wings, tattoos, horns and eyeless sockets were no more. She was once again the golden-haired blood elf, Tiene Firefury. Illidan had absorbed the demon from her, allowing her true form to join her husband.

Kneeling beside her, the spirit of her husband Camnath Sunspear gently stroked her hair. He cradled her and lifted her spirit into his arms. “Wake now, sweet lady. Our wait is over. Our future begins. Welcome home, my darling Tiene.”

Her lips parted in a soft smile, the sound of his voice pulling her through from the void. Her eyes opened to see him smiling down at her, his ebony hair loose over his shoulders. There was so much love in his eyes. She reached up and touched his face. He was beautiful. His mouth covered hers in the softest of kisses.

Her emerald green orbs, once more bright, shed tears for the first time in twelve years. But, these were tears of utter joy. There was no more sorrow, no more emptiness. Now, she was complete.

Finally, Tiene Firefury was all she could be...


	48. Epilogue - Look To The Skies

* * *

Lor’themar Theron sat in his office, signing yet more official documents. He had been doing this since early in the morning. It was a never-ending stream of laws, bills, affidavits, procurements for supplies and arms, requests for audiences with him. Tedious, did not even come close to describing the task.

Then he came upon it. Another demand for forces from the Warchief, Sylvanas. He picked it up, speed read it then let it fall from his hand. It sassied it’s way through the air, just like its author, and floated out over the edge of the desk to the floor. He looked at it, anger brimming at the unrealistic expectations of that woman.

He had never forgiven her for her part in the fall of Quel’thalas. Although it had been widely speculated that she had been under the influence of Arthas, as Banshee Queen, her more recent behaviours caused the seed of suspicion and doubt to multiply tenfold in Lor’themar’s mind. She had shown utter disregard for the Sind’orei’s depleted numbers when the land was still bleeding from the scourge attacks after the third war. The soldiers had been truly battle-wearied and exhausted trying to maintain some sort of order from the chaos. But, still she demanded they were sent to Northrend, reminding Lor’themar they were, after all, part of the Horde and Arthas’ attack was aimed directly at that faction.

There was no love lost between them, never had been, even as far back as his Farstrider days. Yes she had him promoted, twice, but still she enjoyed the fact she was General and he was only Ranger Lord. He had shown her the respect her position warranted, but as an individual he loathed her and her arrogant approach. Politics was a dirty business anyway, but she had a knack of making it as foul as the plague itself.

He flopped back in his chair and dropped his quill on the desk, a small spattering of ink forming across the desk top where it landed. He leaned on the chair arm, toying with his goatie, lost in thoughts he could not even collate in any particular format.

The door opened and Grand Magister Rommath strode into the room, followed by a maid who carried a tea tray. He motioned for the maid to place the tray on the side table next to the window as there was no room on Lor’themar’s desk with the seemingly self-multiplying stacks of documents covering the surface. He nodded thanks and waited for her to leave. The door closed quietly behind her.

Rommath looked at his friend. “You look tired,” he said, pouring out the tea for them both.

Lor’themar sighed heavily, rubbing his eye. “I am. This is a thankless task.”

Rommath chortled a little. “But one which needs doing I’m afraid.”

“Hmm,” Lor’themar mumbled as he pushed himself up out of the chair and crossed to the Grand Magister. He thanked him for his cup of tea, but refused a slice of the lovingly crafted carrot cake.

Rommath moved to take a seat in front of Lor’themar’s desk. Placing his cup on the only available space on the desk he noticed the letter on the floor and bent to pick it up. Lor’themar was not alone in his suppositions of the Warchief, Rommath, also detested the unforsaken bitch. He sneered at the document and placed it on the desk amid the many other letters. “She is wanting more, I see,” he said to the Regent Lord.

Lor’themar sipped his tea, then replaced the cup on its saucer. “Yes, as always.”

Rommath cleared his throat before proceeding. “You know, if she used necromancy...”

The Regent Lord shot him a dark look. “Do not even think that! If she  _ever_  uses that foul magic on my men, I swear I will kill her myself, Warchief or no!”

Rommath was duly chastised, although he had known what the response would be. He too, felt the same, but this constant demand was starting to impact on numbers again. Nevertheless, he had had to put the consideration forward, but was inwardly relieved the Regent Lord was still strongly opposed to the notion. He quietly sipped his tea and took a bite of cake.

The red and gold voiles buffeted into the room quite unexpectedly. A wind whistled through the room, stirring the edges of some of the papers on the Regent Lord’s desk. Thankfully, he had sense to put some weights on the various piles so they did not take flight nor fall over unexpectedly.

Rommath looked out the open glass doors to the balcony. The sky looked unsettled, clouds roiling and racing past his line of vision. “Unusual for this time of year,” he commented.

Lor’themar, still bristling a little from Rommath’s last comment turned to look out the windows. The Grand Magister was not mistaken. The clouds were skuttling, their colours like sunset for all it was early afternoon. He placed his cup, absentmindedly, on the side table as he was inexplicably drawn out to the balcony.

Rommath was asking him what was wrong, but Lor’themar didn’t answer, his attention was focused on the sky. The Grand Magister just shook his head, assuming the Regent Lord simply need some fresh air after having been stuck inside doing administrative duties all morning. He laid down his cup and quietly left the room, allowing Lor’themar some solitude.

The silver-haired leader of the Sin’dorei rested his hands on the stone balcony wall and searched the expanse of clouds. His heart was inexplicably racing, a sense of sweet anticipation coursing through his very soul. Something caught his eye to his right. There on the wall, under a brightly painted butterfly carved of wood, was a single piece of paper. He looked at it quizzically, then crossed to pick it up.

A voice from far away floated towards him on the air. " _Look to the skies brother, one day I will be there..."_

He clasped the little wooden carving to his chest and read the note.

 

_ My Dearest Lor’themar _

_ My time has come. I am now free. _

_ Weep not, brother. I am happy, blissfully happy. My body is in the meadow where we released my beloved Camnath’s ashes. _

_ I love you. Be strong, be proud and just. _

_ And please, look after my butterfly. _

_ Your loving sister _

_ Tiene _

 

His breath caught in his throat. He was transfixed. As he watched over the sea towards Quel’Danas _,_ the clouds parted like drapes at a celestial window, the corresponding brightness almost blinding, forming in the centre.

_ We are reunited, Lor’themar. See us now ... _

Lor’themar had not wept since the day he lost his family, the Firefurys, in the third war. Now, his green orb brimmed as he saw their faces in front of him, wavering, shimmering in the sky. Yathas, Duthan, Inaris. They all smiled at him. He faltered, momentarily lowering his gaze, swallowing back the emotion. After a moment he raised his head again. From behind the Firefury men came Tiene and her beloved Camnath, the love they felt for one another so apparent on their faces. He managed to smile back at them all.

* _Ash’ nal Sin’dorei, anu belore daela’na. Shar rila, athfiore_.

_ **Ash’ a riom. _

* * *

 

* We are Children of the Blood, the sun guides us. Have faith, brother.

** We love you...

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for making it through Rogue Firefury. I admit it is my favourite and has a lot of personal meaning for me. I hope you enjoyed it, hopefully laughed a little as well as cried now and again. 
> 
> This now leads into the 3rd Book in The Sarah & Khadgar Chronicles "Azeroth Unfolding". I will wait a little while before I start uploading it, but hopefully you will want to journey with me once more.
> 
> I appreciate all of you reading and if you have added kudos and comments, well I can't thank you enough - means a lot to me. I need to take a break from posting and get down to some reading, so I will be going on some of your journeys perhaps. 
> 
> Thank you :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you will enjoy this story enough to award it kudos perhaps. Please feel free to comment if you wish, I would dearly like to know what you think of it. Thank you.


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